Chained
by Sparks
Summary: In the year that Harry and his class graduated from Hogwarts, the war came to its conclusion. Voldemort won. Now, six years later, Harry is in jail, and a new prisoner is brought in. A prisoner who is very familiar to Harry…COMPLETED 12th August 2002
1. Entrance

Author's Notes: In the year that Harry and his class graduated from Hogwarts, the war came to it's conclusion. Voldemort won. Now, six years later, Harry is in jail, and a new prisoner is brought in. A prisoner who is very familiar to Harry...and who could help change the balance of power in England.  
  
Warnings: This is set in an alternate future where many characters have changed to someone you may not immediately recognise. This story is also SLASH fanfiction.  
  
Disclaimer: The ones who are mine (in the prologue, anyway) are Claw, Gary, and various unnamed prison guards. Anyone who you recognise isn't mine.  
  
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The chains clanked around my wrists as I was marched down a long corridor by two guards. They halted me as we reached a door and opened it, and I was shoved through roughly. I almost stumbled; I hadn't slept well for the past few days, but it was only to be expected. One of the guards roughly searched me again. I couldn't protest, despite the fact that I had already been searched thoroughly several times, and that I now wore the plain grey uniform that that they had given me, bereft of any place to hide anything.  
  
Another door, and across a large, square yard, enclosed by high walls that didn't seem to give any shelter from the bitterly cold winter winds. In the brief glance I was afforded of the yard, I could see lines painted on the walls and on the cement ground.  
  
Then the two guards pushed me through yet another door, which was loudly shut behind me. My chains were removed, and I was pulled along; I didn't see where I was going, the shock of it all was too much for me just then. Finally they stopped me.  
  
"This is your cell," one of the guards told me brusquely. "Number three- three-six, and don't you forget it. You're free to move around the main building after seven in the morning and before ten at night. Your cell will be locked at night, and if you aren't in it when the guard comes around it's worth a day in isolation. You can only have extra things in your cell after a month, and then they have to be cleared with a guard. Is that understood?"  
  
I lifted my eyes from my feet to look at the stocky guard, and nodded mutely. Oh yes, I understood.  
  
"You forgot to tell him about the procedures for letters and visitors, Officer McKinley," came a lazy, self-confident voice from behind me. I froze. Even after six years, I would know that voice anywhere - although I hadn't heard the man speak in that particular tone ever before. I saw the guards' eyes widen almost in fear, and slowly I turned around. I was greeted with the sight of a dozen or so men clad in the same grey uniform as me. They were all watching me with curious stares - except one of them.  
  
This man stood at the front of the group. Everything about him screamed that he was the leader of the men behind him, so even if I hadn't known his face as well as I know my hand, I would have known that he was the one who had spoken. His green eyes glittered almost malevolently underneath unruly black hair and a jagged scar that was famous the world over.  
  
The green-eyed man's lip curled. "Draco Malfoy," he drawled. "So you're the new three-three-six. Well. Welcome to Talsgate prison." His eyes flicked to the two guards, who narrowed their eyes at him, but opened my cell and left in the direction they had come from. I looked back at Harry Potter, and opened my mouth. Whatever I had been about to say, and I wasn't sure of that myself, I was cut off by one of the men behind Harry sniggering.  
  
I grimaced as the man stepped forward, moving leisurely towards me. I easily recognised my old classmate, despite the long scar that now ran across his face. On my first night in prison, I complained silently, the last person I wanted to see was Blaise Zabini. Or perhaps Harry was at the top of that list.  
  
"So you finally slipped up enough to land in Talsgate," Zabini mocked. I winced; I really didn't want to think about my 'crime'. "What d'you do to get in, Malfoy - lose all your money?" I didn't answer. Zabini wasn't worth it.  
  
Apparently Harry agreed with me. "Zabini," he said softly, his voice cutting through the cloud of rage that hung around Zabini. "I believe I told you last week that I didn't want to hear you again for a month." I started; did Harry have that much control over the men in here? "By my count you still have four weeks left," he continued, then looked at a large man just on his right. "Gary?"  
  
"Four weeks, fifteen hours, Harry," corrected the man, whose name was obviously Gary. "And it would be a pleasure to remind two-eight-nine of that."  
  
Zabini snarled, but slinked away towards the metal stairs at the end of one of the rows of cells. Gary watched until Zabini had disappeared to the other side of the row. Harry, meanwhile, watched me until I shifted uncomfortably under his stare. It made me feel as though he knew all about me and more. I didn't like that anybody could make me feel that way - what I hated was that I had the feeling that Harry really *did* know all about me. If my years at Hogwarts had taught me anything, it was that with Harry, anything was possible.  
  
"Claw," Harry said suddenly, startling me out of my musings. "Take three- three-six under your wing for a day or so. Don't forget that curfew's in five minutes." A tall, lean man with three scars across his face stepped forward, a strange glint in his eyes. I unconsciously shivered; I was glad that I wasn't on his bad side.  
  
Harry glanced around the prison; all around we were being watched by prisoners. In the two levels above us, men gazed down through the metal fencing. Obviously Harry really was the leader here, I realised, of the whole prison, not just of the small group in front of me.  
  
"Welcome again, three-three-six," Harry said eventually, and turned to leave with the others. I let out the breath I hadn't been aware I was holding, and turned away, towards my cell.  
  
"And hello to you too, Potter," I muttered carelessly. Before I knew what had happened, I had been pinned against the cell bars by Claw. The prison was resounding with outcry against me, and I blinked in confusion. Of course. I could have hit myself. With the whole prison evidently under Harry's control, I would have to watch what I said.  
  
"You *will* address him as Harry," Claw hissed, his face so close to mine that I could feel his breath on my face. "And you will *not* be so flippant with regards to him again, do you understand me?" I didn't have a chance to answer; my eyes flicked over Claw's shoulder to see another guard standing there.  
  
"Hey! One-four-seven! Let the new prisoner go," the guard ordered. Claw let me go, but he was reluctant. "Come on, you lot," the guard continued. "Three minutes." The noise in the prison died down as men returned to their cells. Claw stormed off to a stairway and disappeared to the third level. Soon only Harry, the guard and I remained standing in the 'alleyway' between two rows of cells.  
  
The guard look first at me, then at Harry, then he sighed. "Two minutes," he warned. "I'm started on row A." He left the 'alley' we were in. After a moment I could hear the clang of metal cell doors closing.  
  
Harry was watching me again, his eyes hooded, unreadable. That had changed about him. I remember when we were at Hogwarts together his every emotion could be seen through his eyes. Now I couldn't even tell if he was angry or annoyed to see me again. Finally a small smile curved his mouth, although his eyes stayed the same.  
  
"Don't mind them," he said quietly. "They're rather protective of me." He moved closer, until I could have reached out and touched him. I didn't though. "But I'd listen to them if I were you, Draco," he continued, stressing my name as though it were a privilege that I should be called that. "Things around here can get unpleasant if you don't." He raised one eyebrow. His scar was twisted slightly on his forehead. "How long are you in here for?"  
  
"Twenty - twenty years," I managed. I really, really didn't want to think about having to spend twenty years in here, and I knew that there was no chance I'd be let out early for good behaviour - even if my behaviour counted as good, Lord Voldemort would never let me out. Not after what I'd done.  
  
Harry nodded slowly. "I'm cell one-oh-two," he told me then. "That's row B, third level, on Godric alley." He grimaced. "Alley A," he corrected himself. "Come by tomorrow morning, after cell opening, and we'll lay out the 'mates rules for you." He turned towards the end of the row, then looked back. "Good night, Draco."  
  
He sauntered off, and I stepped inside my cell. I was confused, tired, and I wished I was anywhere but here. I didn't take the time to look around my new home; I fell onto the bed and was asleep within minutes.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * To be continued. 


	2. Morning

Author's Notes: Can someone please answer this question for me: Why is it that my fics that seem to be most popular are always, without fail, the ones that I've just written on a whim? Thanks for all the great reviews!  
  
Disclaimer: As part one.  
  
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"I'd get up afore one-four-seven gets after ye," a guard advised me a moment after he had shaken me awake. I blinked up at him, and he disappeared out of my cell. I stared up for a long moment at the yellowish ceiling, then I sat up and took a good look at my cell.  
  
It was small, I quickly realised, perhaps ten feet by eight, and contained only a bed that folded up against the wall, a fold-up chair and table, another loose chair and a small metal chest. On the table I could see a mug holding a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a comb. I grimaced. This, then, was my home for the next twenty years.  
  
As I hadn't undressed last night, being too exhausted, all I had to do to be ready was pull on the canvas prison shoes and run a hand through my hair. I tugged the bedclothes straight, and caught sight of the man in the cell opposite mine staring openly. I raised one eyebrow coolly at him then stepped out of my cell. My cell...the words felt strange even just in my mind. I hoped that I wouldn't have to speak the words aloud any time soon.  
  
The moment I stepped out of the cell I was accosted by a man, who I recognised from yesterday as Gary.  
  
"You'd better fold your bed up, three-three-six," Gary advised me coolly. "It's against regulations to leave it like that." I flushed. Even after all these years under *him* hadn't cured me of an dislike of being told what to do. I turned, however, and pushed my bed up against the wall. With his eyes fixed unforgivingly on me I fumbled with the catch. Eventually Gary pushed my hands away and did it for me.  
  
"Thanks," I muttered. Gary grimaced.  
  
"Don't thank in here," he warned. "It's not done. And look - I'm not doing this because I like you, Malfoy. But I respect Harry, and I'll tell you this for his sake."  
  
"Tell me what?" I inquired lightly. I wasn't willing to be dragged into whatever politics was going on in this prison - not until I'd talked to Harry, anyway. Gary's eyes flashed dangerously, and I dropped my eyes to my feet. It was a habit I was getting into that I ought to stop, I knew. But not now.  
  
"In here," Gary continued evenly, as if I hadn't spoken, "it doesn't matter why you got here, or how long you're here for. What matters is how you treat people." I looked up again sharply, fairly sure that I knew what was coming. "Especially Harry," he completed.  
  
I met his eyes with steely resolve. I wasn't going to let him, or anyone else for that matter, dictate to me how I would treat Harry. Well..."How I treat him," I replied quietly, "depends on how he treats me." There. If Harry was the leader of the prison, and if he was still the same person I once knew, there was no way he would treat me with anything less than courtesy. Gary must know that, and so Gary would accept my answer as good.  
  
Or maybe not. Gary met my eyes, searching for something. He did not find it - I was still a Malfoy, for all my other failings - and nodded slowly.  
  
"Fine," he said at last. 'Come on, I'll take you to him. Since you can't be expected to know your way around."  
  
I nodded - there was no other option but to agree - and followed Gary from my cell. We left the alley, which I saw was called Alley C, although someone had scratched a word underneath it. I made a mental note to return to see what it was, Harry's comment about 'Godric Alley' still in my mind from last night. We entered Alley B, and went to the metal staircase that led up to the higher staircase. Here I could read the word hastily engraved under the official sign - Salazar.  
  
My eyebrows must have hit my hairline, but I resolved to ask someone about it - Harry, probably - and continued to look around myself in curiosity. It was, after all, my first time in *any* prison, let along Talsgate, which had become infamous for housing dangerous criminals...of which I now was one, I supposed. I didn't like that thought, and shut it out, looking around the prison.  
  
I could see men both walking around and still locked in their cells; most of them were part of one conversation or other, but what surprised me most was that many of these conversations were taking place through cell bars. I knew that the ones who were locked in their cells all the time except at meals were the ones considered most dangerous - or mad - but I hadn't expected there to be much interaction between them and the rest of the prison. Then again, I hadn't really known what to expect.  
  
None of them appeared the slightest bit interested in Gary or me, but I could feel their eyes on me as we reached the highest level of the prison.  
  
A movement off to my left caught my attention, and I looked to see a gallery, fenced off by metal wire, where several guards conversed and kept an eye on the prison, wands idly in their hands and guns holstered at their belts. I felt a little sick.  
  
"Ignore them and they ignore you, for the most part," Garry muttered. "Here we are - one-oh-two." The two cells on either side, I noted absently as he stepped into Harry's cell, were empty of occupants for the time being.  
  
Harry glanced up from the sheet of paper he was writing on - I hadn't known we could write letters - with a strange expression in his eyes. After a moment he gave a faint smile. "So you found your way here."  
  
"Uh, Gary helped," I replied, a little awkwardly. I really wasn't ready to talk to Harry again, I realised. After all, the last time I'd seen him he had still been calling me Malfoy, I'd still been calling him Potter, and we were both firmly agreed that we hated one another. I glanced over my shoulder to look for Gary - anything to look away from those piercing green eyes - only to find that he had gone.  
  
"He'll have gone to get Claw," Harry observed, rising from his bed and stretching. "Since he'll be keeping an eye on you."  
  
I nodded, although I wanted to protest that I didn't really need looking after. Somehow I didn't think that it would be a good idea to disagree with Harry just at the moment - and besides, I probably would get lost without a guide of some sort. Harry silently gestured towards his loose chair, and I thankfully sat down in it. Harry watched me carefully, his eyes still inscrutable.  
  
"It's not that bad, Draco," he said finally. "You'll land on your feet, you always do."  
  
I felt a sudden surge of resentment. What he'd said wasn't true - I hardly ever landed on my feet, if the truth was told. My father had always done the landing for me...except in this instance. In this instance he had left me to fall, and I could scarcely blame him after what I had done.  
  
Not that I regretted what I had done.  
  
So I shrugged uneasily. "I'm fine," I lied, as convincingly as I knew how. By the slight narrowing of his eyes, I knew that Harry had seen through the lie, but I couldn't really have cared less. I concentrated on watching Harry as I tapped on the table next to me.  
  
Harry's gaze instantly narrowed in on my fingers and the rhythm I was creating.  
  
"But all this has happened so quickly," I continued, as my tapping changed imperceptibly.  
  
"It generally does with old Mouldy-warts," Harry agreed, lifting his head to look at me, understanding filling his eyes. He lifted his hand slightly to rest on the wall, and he started tapping as well. My fingers stilled, and I watched his movements carefully.  
  
Then he changed the subject so abruptly that I blinked. "I wonder where Claw is; I hope he's not fighting again."  
  
"Does he get into fights often?" I inquired, satisfied by our silent conversation. Harry gave me an odd look.  
  
"How much information about this place gets out to you lot?" he asked slowly. I shrugged.  
  
"Practically none," I answered. In truth, it had almost been less than that for I and the others who had served with me...our rank had not been conducive to learning about the prison. "Why?"  
  
"Everyone gets into fights here," was the reply. "It's a regular thing, despite what the guards might wish." He grinned lopsidedly, and for an instant I was reminded of the boy he had once been. "I wonder who your first fight will be with."  
  
"You, I hope," I said before I had thought the words through. "At least with you I know I have a half-way decent chance of winning."  
  
His eyes flashed, and I knew I had said something wrong. Still, I met his gaze levelly.  
  
"How would you know?" he demanded quietly. "You must have changed over the years, Malfoy - and I certainly have."  
  
Well, I could see that. It was obvious in everything about him - he was no longer quiet and unassuming. The war had turned him into a true leader, but something - someone - had changed something deep inside him. I couldn't see exactly what had changed yet.but I knew he was different. Even in the short time I had spent with him so far, he felt...serpentine. He felt like a Slytherin...and I didn't like it.  
  
After all, he was the very essence of Gryffindor...or so the rumours said. So *he* had whispered to me on dark nights.  
  
Harry opened his mouth to say something, but his attention was drawn to Claw, who stood at the cell door. He had a black eye. Obviously Harry's suspicions had been correct, then.  
  
"Who?" Harry demanded, a little wearily. Claw shrugged; he clearly didn't want to say. "Oh, alright," Harry relented. "Besides, I know it was Birdie." Claw shrugged again.  
  
"Doesn't matter," he said simply. "He won't try fighting me again." He looked at me, and I flinched away; Birdie sounded mad to even *try* fighting with the large man. I certainly was going to stay as much on his good side as I could.  
  
Harry opened his mouth and started to say something, but just then a loud, clanging, *loud* sound came ringing through the prison. I winced; I felt as though my brain was being rattled in my skull. Harry and Claw, however, almost seemed to barely notice it.  
  
"Breakfast," Harry informed me, and I suddenly realised that I hadn't eaten anything since yesterday lunch. "Come on, they don't like it if we're late." I rose and left Harry's cell in front of him, making the mistake of looking down. I swayed, and focused on the nearest thing at my eye level...which happened to be, of course, Harry.  
  
"You're afraid of heights?" he demanded, clearly highly amused. I gritted my teeth. "And you used to play Quidditch."  
  
"I wasn't then," I ground out. "I am now." Harry watched me for a moment, then nodded. Fine. Whatever. He could draw his own conclusions. I wanted food.  
  
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To be continued. 


	3. Breakfast

Author's Notes: Again, thank you for all the reviews.  
  
Disclaimer: See part one; others belonging to me are Rubber, Eddie, Mack, Tom, and various guards.  
  
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Breakfast and every other meal, it turned out, took place in a fairly large dining room, filled with straight rows of tables. Surprisingly it reminded me a little of Hogwarts. There was a kitchen, mostly fenced off, at one end. As Claw pushed me forward, I could see men collected bowls of porridge through a gap in the fencing. The porridge looked...well, it was food, I supposed, and that was what counted really.  
  
It didn't help that half the prison was staring at me and I recognised more than a few of them, either from Hogwarts, or from my five years serving *him*.  
  
Claw took me over to the table that he apparently always sat at, and gestured me into a seat. Harry was sitting elsewhere, I noted. I wasn't sure to be relieved or not - not all of the men in my immediate vicinity looked as though they were about to buy me flowers.  
  
However Gary was sitting next to me, and hopes rose within me that perhaps I wouldn't be dragged into a fight this morning.  
  
"You know Gary," Claw started. "These are Eddie, Mack, Rubber and Tom." The four men each nodded at me; the only one who didn't look as though he might try to strangle me at any moment was Rubber. He grinned at me, and I managed a small smile in return.  
  
"How'd you get the name Rubber?" I inquired, attempting to stir the small amount of sugar I had been given into the thick porridge. It didn't work, so I simply started eating. It tasted like sawdust, but I suppose there are worse things to eat.  
  
At my question, everyone except for Rubber groaned. Gary shook his head at me disapprovingly.  
  
"Never, ever ask him that," he proclaimed. "He won't shut up for hours now, and I'm the one in the cell next to him." Rubber was grinning madly. I began to realise that there was a possibility that he *was* mad.  
  
But his words alleviated my concern...somewhat. "I'm called Rubber," he began, "because I can do this:" He held out his arm over the table, and bent it. Backwards.  
  
I had seen many grotesque things over the past decade or so. This was perhaps one of the worst. Although I wasn't going to admit that to anyone, ever.  
  
Rubber returned his arm to its normal position. "I'm completely double- jointed," he explained. "And that was *before* some wizard made my bones pliable enough to be like, uh, rubber." He shrugged. "I wasn't complaining, it made my job a lot easier."  
  
I opened my mouth to ask what his job had been, but Claw shoved my sharply with his elbow and gave me a warning look. Sudden comprehension dawned; Rubber's 'job' had obviously been what had landed him in Talsgate.  
  
My spoon hit the bottom of the bowl, and I realised with a start that I'd finished the porridge. Claw had also finished, and when he saw that I was done, he pulled me from my seat and propelled me across the room to a large bowl full of murky water. We dumped out spoons and bowls into the water, and then Claw led me out of the dining room.  
  
Most of the men were still eating, and although I'd only been in the prison for less than ten hours, it felt unnaturally quiet. It was a disturbing change to see the prison now, with only a handful of men walking around, when before it had been almost a hive of activity.  
  
The guards in the gallery watched us as Claw took me to row A and his cell, number ninety-seven. I wondered whether they mistrusted all the prisoners, or whether it was merely Claw and I.  
  
Claw's cell was on the ground level, and was even less sparse than Harry's had been. Harry's cell had been adorned with a few photographs, and he had had some paper and a couple of pens on the table. Claw had either been here longer or had people outside that were able to send him things - there were at least a dozen photos on the wall, there was some sort of ornament, which may or may not have been Muggle, standing on his metal chest, and there was even a small mirror nailed to the wall. . I wondered if anyone would ever send me anything. Perhaps, I mused, Mother might -  
  
I cut that train of thought off abruptly and sat down opposite Claw, watching him expectantly.  
  
"Since Harry asked me to lay out the basics for you," he began, "I may as well do it now and get it over with before roll call."  
  
"There's a roll call?" I asked, startled. After all, Talsgate was impossible to escape from. A shiver ran down my back as I remembered another prison, and the single escapee from there. Alright, perhaps a roll call was necessary.  
  
Claw gave an impatient sigh. "Yes, Malfoy, there is a roll call," he said evenly. "For everyone that's allowed out of cells."  
  
"How do the ones that have to stay locked up eat?" I inquired curiously. Claw closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  
  
"Why do I get the difficult ones," he muttered. "They're unlocked by the guards for meals, alright? Then locked up again. Roll call is after meals to make sure everyone's here and where they should be." He glared at me. "And it's as much for us as it is for them."  
  
"Them?" I was puzzled for a moment. "Oh. The guards." He nodded brusquely. "So where does roll call happen?"  
  
"In the yard - you saw that when you were brought in," he told me. Oh yes, of course, that grey area with the painted lines. Not that I recalled much of it, I had been very out of it then. Not that I could say I wasn't out of it now, of course. My situation hadn't really sunk in yet. "We have two hours of exercise out there after roll call in the morning, no matter what the weather," he continued. "The lockers join us after an hour."  
  
"Lockers?" I interrupted. Maybe I'd missed something, but I didn't have a clue in hell what they were.  
  
"The ones that are locked up all day," he expanded. "They're lockers, and we - the ones that can walk about - are outies. It just stops things getting complicated." He shrugged. "There are over three hundred of us at any given time, after all."  
  
Right. How could I forget? Of course there were several hundred people in here - my cell was number three-three-six, after all.  
  
"After that," Claw continued, "we come back inside and have until lunchtime free. Lunch is at...uh...one, I think. I'm not sure, we live by bells and locks in here." I nodded; that made sense, I hadn't see any clocks in here, and watches, I knew, were taken away from us when we first came in, and kept with our wands. The wands, I had been told by the guards yesterday before they brought me in here, were never snapped.  
  
"What do we do after lunch?" I asked, forcing myself not to think about my wand. Claw, I am sure, saw my discomfort, but said nothing.  
  
"There're some workshops, in the dining room," he said instead. "Uh, carpentry, and some other things - I never do 'em, they aren't required. Harry does some, sometimes, and Gary. Then we eat again at about seven, I reckon."  
  
"Thank you for telling me," I said quietly. "Could I - will you answer some of my questions?" There were some things I needed to know, and I could not ask Harry, even if I knew him better than I knew Claw.  
  
"Depends on what they are," Claw replied easily, tipping his chair backwards. "Well?"  
  
"Why does everyone in here respect Harry?" The front two feet of his chair thumped onto the ground. "Why do they all...fear him?" I pressed.  
  
He narrowed his eyes. "That's not my place to tell you," he said heavily. "You'll see soon enough, I'm sure." That wasn't any answer, but I could see that I would get nothing else from him. "Do you have any other questions?" he demanded. "Roll call's soon."  
  
I remembered the scratched words I had seen under the 'Alley' signs. "Yes - why is Alley B called Salazar Alley?" I queried. "And last night, Harry said something about, uh, Godric Alley."  
  
A grin stretched the scars on Claw's face. "Ah, that was what the first prisoner in here called the alleys - Godric, Salazar, Rowena and Helga," he told me, seeming quite proud of it. "Not that I understood at first, not being a wizard." I managed not to show surprise at this; I had known, of course, that this prison housed Muggles as well as wizards, but I had not expected...I had not realised that I would be talking with them. Although my opinions had...changed, somewhat, over the past few years, I was still my father's son. Muggles, I had been taught, were beneath wizards. I snapped back to attention, not wanting to think about my father.  
  
"I suppose you went to that school, Hogwarts?" Claw asked. I nodded silently. "Then you know about the, uh, Founders. Well, the first prisoner put in here was someone called...oh, what was it. Harry or Gary would be better to tell you, I've only been in here three years. Uh...oh yes. It was a man called Ron Weasley."  
  
I almost fell out of my chair. "Ron Weasley was in here?" I managed. "Ron *Weasley*?"  
  
"You knew him?" Claw threw me a sharp glance, and I nodded, unable to speak. I hadn't known that Weasley was in here...but of course, I should have expected it. Weasley and Potter had been the leaders of the resistance...only then it had been Potter alone, because Weasley had 'disappeared'. So he had been prisoner number one. I wonder what had happened to him. Surely he was no longer here, since I hadn't seen him yet, and he and Harry would have been inseparable, I imagined.  
  
Another loud bell interrupted my thoughts, and I suppressed a groan. 'I think," I muttered, "that I could learn to hate that bell."  
  
"On the contrary, you'll learn to love it," Claw said cheerfully. "C'mon, roll call." I followed him from his cell, and realised that during our talk the prison had filled again. Claw took me back towards the front entrance; a huge group of men had gathered there, forming some semblance of a line, but in the middle of them several men appeared to be having a fight. One of them I recognised as Zabini, the other as Rubber, the man I had met at breakfast only a short while earlier.  
  
"What on earth is Rubber fighting Zabini for?" Claw muttered, more to himself than to me. "He knows he'll never win."  
  
"Why not?" I demanded in as quiet a voice as I could manage - not that it really mattered, the men about us were making enough noise to drown out whatever I might say.  
  
"Because Zabini was one of your Death Eaters," Claw replied impatiently. "He's got training that Rubber never had." I watched the fight, and realised that Claw was right - Zabini was pounding on Rubber, and Rubber had no notion of how to fight back - his pliable limbs obviously weren't helping much, as Zabini was using them to his advantage, twisting them around. Blaise had always made use of his opponent's weaknesses and strengths, I recalled. That was how he had got in here, if I remembered correctly.  
  
"Stop it!" Harry's voice rang out from the crowds, and he stepped forward, pushing Gary aside. "Zabini, drop it." Zabini ignored Harry, although even I could see that it wasn't perhaps the brightest idea to do that. He hit Rubber again, sending the man sprawling back into some other inmates.  
  
Suddenly Zabini was slowly lifted into the air; he was facing me, so I could see the look of utter panic on his face. Expecting to see a guard with a wand, I looked around. Then I noticed that everyone was watching Harry.  
  
My old arch-enemy was standing with his legs braced and his arm outstretched towards Zabini. A look of intense concentration was on his face, and he was beginning to sweat. He was obviously the cause of Zabini's levitation, although I didn't see how that was possible. He had no wand, and I could see on his wrist a metallic bracelet that I knew had been devised before Harry had been caught. It was loaded with spells, all designed to stop the use of magic. It mostly was used for children now, so that they didn't do any accidental magic before they were old enough for a wand. It was useless when one was in possession of a wand.  
  
Harry had no wand, he had a prevention bracelet, and he had just levitated Blaise Zabini several feet into the air.  
  
Suddenly I knew that the rumours were not rumours. They were fact. I also knew why everyone in this prison thought twice before upsetting Harry.  
  
Zabini was slowly lowered. Harry was shaking and sweating profusely, but his voice was steady, and cut through the crowd.  
  
"Don't attack my friends again." He looked at Rubber, who was picking himself up. He didn't appear much hurt, and he flashed Harry a thankful grin. Harry was stony-faced. "I can take care of myself, Rubber," he admonished. "I'm not worth a day in isolation."  
  
"Neither are they, one-oh-two," came the voice of a guard. I turned, and the guard walked past me towards Harry, an unjustified look or pleasure on his face. "You can spend the day in isolation for what you just did."  
  
Harry's eyes flashed, but he silently followed the guard. Other guards were here now, and we were briskly ordered into lines. Everyone ignored Zabini as we were taken outside into the yard and lined up against the wall. When my number was called, I answered as the others had done.  
  
My mind stayed firmly with Harry, and what I had just seen.  
  
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To be continued. 


	4. Exercise

Author's Notes: I'm getting such a kick out of reading all your reviews, so I'm going to take to doing what many other authors do, and answer reviews at the end of each chapter.  
  
Disclaimer: As the other parts; the only things that belong to me are the things you don't recognise.  
  
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Exercise in the yard, I soon found out, was basically a joke. After two minutes I knew all I needed to. After five minutes I was bored stiff and even found myself wishing to be back inside, away from the rain that started after only a few moments.  
  
For the first hour we jogged around the yard, keeping carefully on the white lines that were painted on the ground, supervised by guards. The lines were all straight, painted in squares within the square made by the walls, and there were dozens of them. Every now and then the guards would yell out for us to change squares, and we all shuffled around to a different square. Every five minutes - I guessed at the length of time - we were told to change direction and jog around the square the other way.  
  
I think I had more stimulating exercise with *him*.  
  
Then we stopped for a couple of minutes and waited for the 'lockers' to join us. They did, stretching limbs that weren't used enough, and the jogging started again.  
  
The whole situation would have been relentlessly unbearable if it wasn't for Rubber, who kept on making strange faces at everyone. I didn't know whether he always did this, whether he did this for my benefit, or whether he was trying to make up for having got Harry put into isolation.  
  
I suspected the latter, because almost everyone was ignoring him.  
  
Thankfully, the two hours of 'exercise' ended just as the skies really opened on us and it began hailing. The guards seemed just as anxious as us to get inside, as we were hurried through the door as quickly as possible. The lockers were taken back to their cells, and the rest of us were free to do what we wanted - within reason, of course. There was no way any of us were going to be allowed to attempt mass murder, for example.  
  
I had wanted to ask Harry about some things - especially after having seen that display of magic earlier - but as he was now in isolation that was impossible. I would have followed one of the men I had met this morning, but they all disappeared quickly to their own cells or to each other's. I walked slowly down Alley C - Helga Alley - to my own cell.  
  
Things in Talsgate were certainly not what I had expected, even though I hadn't really expected anything much. But Harry...Harry was the one thing that was most unexpected. He could do magic without a wand, a thing that has always been drilled into us as dangerous and practically impossible. Even Dumbledore had only been able to perform a very few spells without his wand - even *he* had needed a wand. And Harry was *his* equal in every way, if what I thought was true...yet Harry could perform wandless magic - with a prevention bracelet on, no less!  
  
Well, it certainly explained a few things, like why everyone in the prison listened to Harry, even if they didn't all like him. It also explained why the guard had left he and I alone last night when I had first entered Talsgate.  
  
I sat on my bed, and took a deep breath. I was really here. I was really in prison, and there was no way I could leave. I knew...I knew when I did it that I'd end up here, but they were so desperate, they needed the information so badly, and it was for Harry, it was all for Harry, he wasn't there anymore but he would want me to help...I couldn't bear it anymore, *his* hands on my skin, touching, probing...I needed to get out, and they'd said that they'd help me...that bastard...  
  
Someone shook me roughly, and I was harshly broken out of my trance. I looked up at Claw, who was watching me anxiously.  
  
"You alright?" he asked carefully. I sat there, my mouth partly open, and shook my head. "It's sunk in then, has it?" I would have nodded if I could; as it was, I leant back against the wall and closed my eyes. Claw was still watching me; I heard the sound of feet shuffling and assumed it to be him. "I'm no good at this sort of stuff," he muttered. "Damnit, if Harry wasn't in isolation..."  
  
"I don't want to talk to Harry," I said, too quickly to be believed. "I..." I shook my head blindly. "I can't tell him why I'm in here."  
  
Claw gave me an oddly calculating look. "So why are you in here, Malfoy?" I wouldn't tell him. I couldn't tell him. I shook my head again, and he sighed. "Alright," he relented. "Come on, I'll show you the showers."  
  
"I don't...I don't want to have a shower," I muttered. All I wanted to do was stay here and wallow in my misery.  
  
Which Claw obviously saw, because he heaved me to my feet, folding up my bed easily with his other hand. "Right," he agreed, with just a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "You want to stay in your cell for as long as possible, ignoring everyone who tries to drag you out and make you enjoy life in here as much as it can be enjoyed. Believe me, I wanted exactly the same." He shrugged. "I had Harry to drag me out of my cell. Since Harry's in isolation, and since no-one else is likely to do it, I'm gonna do the same for you."  
  
I stared at him. "Why?" I choked. "Why would anyone care for me?"  
  
"Because we have to care for each other in here. Because we are all we have."  
  
Well, that made sense, I supposed. Regardless of my current feelings, I didn't want to spend the next twenty years alone. But...but I really didn't want to leave my cell right now. And those were words I'd never thought to be thinking.  
  
Claw was still watching me, his brown eyes lazily taking in every single tiny movement that I made. He lifted one eyebrow in query, and slowly I nodded. With a grunt of satisfaction, Claw stepped out of my cell. Slowly I followed him.  
  
The showers were on the other side of Row A, and faced the windows. The toilets were there as well. There was very little privacy...but there was more than out in the alleys and cells. The showers weren't communal, which I had been half expecting, and they were more clean than not, so I supposed that counted for something. There were a couple of men in there showering, and Claw took one look at them and dragged me from the showers.  
  
"You do *not* want to get involved with that lot," he informed me. "Zabini's crowd. It's that lot that are against Harry, not that any of the rest of us put up with that nonsense. Most of them were Slytherins at Hogwarts - all wizards, of course - and they're all dead set against Harry and anything or anyone to do with him, and that's despite having been put in here by the Dark Lord."  
  
"But they take it out on other men," I murmured, trying to understand the mystery that Harry had turned into over the past six years - or perhaps he had always been a mystery and I had merely seen him in my old black and white vision. "They don't dare touch Harry, because he can do magic."  
  
Claw threw me a sharp glance. "Oh, some are stupid enough to try," he disagreed. "No-one tries twice though." He hesitated, then bluntly asked, "Are you going to try?"  
  
I gazed at him curiously. "Why should I?" I queried. "I'm not against Harry, I don't much care whether he's against the Dark Lord or not, since I'm neither with him nor against. All I care about is..." I trailed off, and shrugged. "I don't care about anything much," I lied easily.  
  
Perhaps my ability to lie was slipping. My experiences over the past three weeks had made me suspect so, and it was clear from Claw's expression that he considered me an amateur liar. I remained stony-faced, and he looked away after a moment or two.  
  
"Whatever you say," he said easily. "I'd supposed to meet Gary and play cards with him - you want to come?"  
  
"Sure," I agreed. "Why not?" Cards would at least occupy my mind until after lunch, when I fully planned to do one of the workshops Claw had told me about for as long as I could, then go to bed after supper. That way, I mused, I would be able to happily avoid thinking about things until I was in my cell - and maybe until after that.  
  
Tomorrow I could talk to Harry, and maybe get some answers - even if I had to get them using finger-tapping code again.  
  
I followed Claw to Gary's cell, on the bottom level of row A, on Godric Alley. Gary, Rubber, Claw and I played cards all morning. I lost every game.  
  
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To be continued.  
  
Replies to reviews (of chapter three only):  
  
Ice - thank you, and thank you for all your other comments also!  
  
Hana-chan - Thank you - and you won't find out about Ron for at least a couple of chapters, sorry!  
  
Sisi - thank you!  
  
silentkaos - creepy? Hmm, I guess that's about what I was aiming for!  
  
QuidditchChick21 - You'll find out what happened to Ron in forthcoming chapters, I promise. As to Sirius and Hermione...you'll just have to wait and see. Simple? What's that?  
  
janibo - thank you - and Harry may or may not get into a fight soon :) I can't tell you!  
  
Sirius - thank you! I wasn't aware that it's *completely* original, but thanks for saying so!  
  
Demeter - well, hooked is fine. Yes, the wandless magic aspect is very important for the story, which *is* slashy, but not necessarily Harry/Draco. Sorry, can't tell you yet! Wait a couple more chapters, then all will be revealed...somewhat. 


	5. Thoughts

Author's Notes: Once again, thank you all for the reviews.  
  
Disclaimer: See part one for full disclaimer.  
  
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My day passed much as I had expected it to, and I slept well that night, exhausted from keeping up the appearance of coping.  
  
I was woken in the morning by Harry sitting on the end of me bed and gently shaking my foot. I didn't realise what it was at first - I thought I was still back with *him*, still trapped...then Harry raised one eyebrow curiously, and I could breathe again, and I knew that I was here, in prison...safe.  
  
I must have spoken that last word aloud, because Harry frowned faintly. "What's safe?" he wanted to know. "Or who are you safe from?"  
  
"What's it to you?" I muttered sullenly. "Why are you here?"  
  
Harry was watching me intently, those green eyes flickering with some unknown emotion that disturbed me. He was again making me feel as though he was slowly stripping away my outer layers and defences, leaving only my soul for his perusal.  
  
He blinked, and the feeling evaporated into the abyss.  
  
"Claw told me about what happened yesterday," he observed finally. I raised one eyebrow. I wondered why he was asking. It made it seem as though he cared, when I knew he didn't. "Are you alright now?"  
  
"I'm fine," I answered curtly. 'What do you want, Harry?" His eyes flashed, and I bit down on my lip, drawing blood. I hadn't meant to say that at all, let alone in the way I had. I groaned and lay back down, burrowing my face in my thin pillow.  
  
"I'll ignore that then," Harry said, far too cheerfully in my opinion. "I'm here to see if you have any questions that Claw didn't answer." In other words, I filled in silently, he wants to find out if I want to know about his wandless magic.  
  
I didn't ask about that, because for one thing I was fairly sure that I knew how he could perform wandless magic, and for another because I have always taken a perverse pleasure out of doing the opposite of what he wants me to do.  
  
"Is Ron Weasley still in here?" I inquired instead, lifting my head from the pillow. Harry froze, then an expression of utter hatred and rage flitted across his face. I have only ever seen that expression on one other person, and I would be sincerely happy if I never saw it again - on either of them.  
  
"No," he said shortly. "Voldemort," his lip curled in distaste, "tortured and killed him to get to me." He shrugged. "I guess it worked." He quirked one eyebrow. "Any other questions?"  
  
"Yeah, can you get off my bed?" He laughed, and moved to the chair. "Thanks." I scrambled out of the bed and shoved my feet into the canvas shoes that were already starting to irritating. I suddenly realised that I was facing twenty years of wearing exactly the same clothes day in, day out.  
  
Oh well, it wasn't one of the worse things about the prison so far. That debatable honour fell squarely to the man sitting across the cell from me. Or possibly to the showers.  
  
Harry was watching me again inscrutably. I'm fairly sure that he knew that I hated it, and that's why he did it so often.  
  
"I was sort of expecting you to ask about yesterday," he admitted after a moment. Had I been the old me I would have rolled my eyes and said something about how the world didn't revolve around him. But I wouldn't do that now - I couldn't do that now, since my whole world now was this prison, and this prison seemed to revolve around him.  
  
"Why should I?" I asked quietly instead. "I already know all I need to know."  
  
His eyebrow quirked upward again. He'd never done that at Hogwarts - it looked like he'd picked it up off Snape. "So what do you know, Draco?" he drawled.  
  
I shrugged. "I know that you can perform wandless magic with a prevention bracelet on, something which is supposed to be impossible," I replied. "I know that for years there have been rumours floating around about who you really are, and who your ancestors were." He blanched, and I finished, "and I know that in here, it's probably not a good idea to piss you off."  
  
Colour slowly returned to Harry's face, and he gave a short, slightly bitter chuckle. "Yes, I imagine that you do know all you need to know about me - at least in here." He stood up. "But you'd better hope that we don't ever get out of here, Draco," he warned, a small smile playing about his face. "I'm sure you'll find I'm a completely different person out there." He rose. "I'll be sure to warn the others that you aren't a morning person," he said teasingly, before disappearing and leaving me to my disturbed thoughts.  
  
The bell for breakfast rang before I could delve too deeply into those thoughts, however, so I decided to ignore what Harry has said...for the time being, at any rate. After all, neither one of us was likely to get out of here in this lifetime. Or the next, knowing *him*.  
  
I had a visitor that day. The guards pulled me in from exercise to see my visitor. To say that I was shocked would be an understatement. I was taken to the windows under the gallery, sat down on a stool, and faced my mother.  
  
Mother. My mother. Was here. In Talsgate. To visit me. She was here to visit me.  
  
For several long moments all I did was stare at her in disbelief. She had been crying, I noted, her eyes were red. She didn't look as...polished as she usually did.  
  
"Draco," she whispered at last. I opened my mouth, but no words came. "Draco..."  
  
"Why are you here, Mother?" I asked wearily. "Why did you come?"  
  
She looked shocked. "I came because I love you, Draco - I'm worried for you..."  
  
"Don't be," I said curtly. "If you cared at all, you would have stopped the ball from rolling five years ago when *he* came for me." I paused, almost incredulous at my own words. Then I shrugged. "I'm alright in here," I said, attempting to reassure her. "It's no so bad."  
  
She gazed at me, threatening to cry again. I shook my head at her. "Don't come here again," I pleaded. "You'll...you'll get in trouble, I don't want you to get in trouble because of me. Father -" I cut myself off.  
  
"Lucius," Mother nodded sombrely. "I know, Draco." Oh yes, she knew. We all knew the things Lucius Malfoy was capable of, in the service of his master. But I was genuinely worried for her - she would certainly be being watched at the moment for any sign that she cared too much for me, for any sign that she might to something...treasonous. And I didn't want my mother to be put in prison as well.  
  
"Very well," she said at last. "I'll go. I...I love you, Draco."  
  
She kissed her fingers then pressed them to the thin glass window between us. I lifted my hand and touched the glass on my side.then she was gone. I stared at where she had been for a long moment, then I gritted my teeth. If she had been followed, and I had no doubt that she had been, Father would talk to her about it.  
  
Father would quite possibly take her to *him*.  
  
I couldn't think about that. A guard stepped up to me and took me back outside to the yard. I concentrated on jogging; one foot in front of me, then another.  
  
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To be continued.  
  
Replies to reviews:  
  
Ice - I hope you got enough sleep! Thanks for your comments.  
  
Hana-chan - Thanks! And don't worry about not being sure about what Draco did - as of yet no-one knows (except me) what he did!  
  
Jass - Thank you! And as to whether it will be Harry/Draco...you'll just have to wait and see!  
  
Thief, drika, spunky - thank you all!  
  
Sophie W - really? You think my fic is addictive? Really? Wow. Wow! Thanks!  
  
Janibo - sigh. I have to say that Harry will not be getting into a fight for a good few chapters, if ever. Sorry :).  
  
Demeter - oh, but I love dangling fish! And who said they had anything other than undying hatred for each other? Not me...really. Anyway, thanks once again for your comments. 


	6. Visitor

Author's Notes: Once more, thanks for the great reviews!  
  
Disclaimer: See part one.  
  
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For three long months nothing different happened. I began to relax in the prison a little as it became my home. I became firm friends with Claw, Gary and Rubber, and for the most part Harry and I ignored each other comfortably. Our mutual silence made the others a little uncomfortable, but when Gary mentioned this to us one mealtime, Harry quirked one eyebrow, gave me a grin, and returned to his food without answering. This, I had found out, was his way of saying that he didn't give a damn and wasn't going to be bothered by it. The others in our close knit group - Claw, Gary, Rubber, Eddie, Harry, and myself - gradually got used to it.  
  
I had no more visitors, and no letters, although many of my new friends in the prison did - except Harry, but most, if not all of us, knew who his friends were, and knew that they could not take the risk of visiting him, or even sending a letter. But I think he missed seeing people, especially when others were called for their visitors. Anyone who didn't get anything from the outside felt left out at those times.  
  
So first November passed, then December - Christmas was celebrated by a small bar of chocolate for each man - and January. It was at the beginning of February that things between Harry and I became...different. Something happened, actually, several somethings happened that changed a lot in the prison.  
  
The first event was that Harry, for the first time in nearly six years, had a visitor.  
  
It was a cold evening, and the whole group of us had gathered in my cell to play cards, as we usually did after supper. For once I wasn't losing - Rubber was - and for once we were all laughing and having a good time. There was some commotion in one of the cells a couple alleys over, but we didn't pay any attention to that - we all unanimously agreed that it was too cold to move much. It was Gary, with his almost supernatural hearing, that lifted his head when he heard something. I looked at him curiously; he was half-frowning.  
  
Harry saw him too. "What is it?" he wanted to know. Gary looked at him, his eyes filled with surprise. "Gary?"  
  
"The guards are calling for you," he said slowly. "I think...I think you have a visitor."  
  
Rubber and Claw, who had been joking around, stilled and looked at Harry, as did Eddie and I. He was white, almost shaking, but he carefully put down his cards with an admonition not to touch them, and stood up. He left my cell. The other four of us looked at each other, then stuck our heads out of my cell.  
  
My cell, on row C, has only five cells until the end of the row, and beyond that are the visitors windows. We could see Harry approaching the guard there, who nodded and jerked his head at one of the windows - the one, luckily, that was closest to us. Harry sat down in front of the window.  
  
"Come on," I said, suddenly making a decision. "Follow me." I slid out of my cell, made sure the others were coming, and slipped down the alley, making sure to keep out of sight of Harry's visitor. When I reached the end of the alley, I pressed myself against the wall so that I couldn't be seen by the visitor, although a flash of Harry's eyes let me know that he knew I was here. I met the eyes of a guard; he looked away, and I smiled grimly. No, the guards would not interfere with Harry unless they had to. Claw and Rubber joined me; Gary and Eddie were leaning against the end of D row.  
  
Then his visitor spoke, and I nearly choked. It was Hermione Granger. I could hear every word clearly.  
  
"Hello, Harry," Hermione greeted him, a little timidly. I watched Harry's face anxiously; after three months I knew enough to be wary of any reference to his past, and Granger was definitely that. "How are you?"  
  
Harry's eyes flashed again, in anger this time. "Don't ask me that," he spat. "You have no right to ask me that, Granger. In fact, you have no right to even be here." He shook his head at her. "I don't see why you are."  
  
"Because I care about you," she said hotly. "And there have been rumours.Harry, I needed to see you again..." I had trouble hiding a snort, but I turned it into a small cough, and leant against the cool wall in an attempt to calm down.  
  
"Well, took you long enough," Harry retorted sharply. "What's the matter, lose the address?" I winced despite myself. I don't know what I would have done if I had been in Harry's situation, but it was clear from the sob on the other side of the window that his sarcasm was hurting her. "What were you expecting, Hermione?" Harry asked after a moment, sounding a little tired. "Were you expecting me to welcome you with open arms? Even if it hadn't been six years without seeing you, you're a collaborator, Hermione." His eyes were deadly cold now, and I shivered. I had known, of course, that Granger was a collaborator - it had been some of the main gossip several years ago, how one of the trio had turned traitor. It had reminded me a little of Harry's parents and their friends.  
  
I could hear Granger crying now, but Harry didn't seem to be paying attention to it. He looked furious - in three months I hadn't seen him this angry. In fact, when I thought about it, I'd never seen him this angry before, not even at school.  
  
Never at school.  
  
"Don't come back, Granger," Harry said curtly at last. "Don't come back. I don't want to see you, or anyone to do with you, ever again. Understood?" He pushed back his chair; it scraped harshly on the floor, and the noise echoed around the prison, which I suddenly realised was quiet, as if everyone was holding their breath collectively.  
  
Harry stalked down Helga Alley, and we began to follow, but we all froze when we heard the unmistakable groan of the cell doors opening.  
  
Every single cell door in his wake was pulling on its hinges. Most of the bars were bending, straining against their welding, and several doors even flew off - one leapt across the alley just in front of me, crashing into the opposite cell. It wasn't just the bottom level - all three levels of cells had bent bars as Harry stalked down to the end of the alley and disappeared.  
  
I was frozen in the middle of the alley, my eyes roving over the devastation that Harry had created of Helga Alley. Self-preservation made me glance to the side to my cell - only a few bars had bent. I could scarcely believe that Harry had been able to do this. It made me beg the question that I had, so far, been avoiding.  
  
Just how powerful was Harry? Even with a wand, most wizards wouldn't have been able to do what he had just done without severe backlash. Yet Harry had not only wrecked the alley, he had walked away from it with no apparent weariness, and he had done it without a wand - and with a prevention bracelet on!  
  
I wondered if *he* was that powerful. I assumed so, since *he* was an heir, but if Harry...it wasn't making much sense, and I hated it.  
  
The guards were coming along now, pulling everyone from their cells and moving them to empty ones for the night. They didn't want anyone managing to walk around at night, I supposed, but it was a little premature - there was still an hour until curfew.  
  
I decided, as I sometimes did when I was deep in thought, to have a shower. I was fairly sure no-one would be there just now, so I ducked into my cell, grabbed my toothbrush and toothpaste, and hurried out of Helga Alley and down to the showers on the other side of row A. I walked into the showers, and stopped. Someone else was there.  
  
Harry was there.  
  
He looked up at me, and I could tell that he had been crying, although I would never have told him that I knew. He was leaning up against the wall, wearing only his trousers, a towel slung over one arm. Obviously he had had the same idea I had.  
  
I found my voice. "She shouldn't have come."  
  
He shrugged. "Probably not."  
  
"You, uh, really made a mess out there," I told him, my voice shaking a little. He shrugged again. "Are you...are you alright, Harry?"  
  
He looked at me then, a strange glint in his eyes. "Why do you care, Draco?" His voice was oddly bitter. "Why do any of you care?"  
  
"Because you're Harry fucking Potter," I spat. "Because you do what you can to make this damned prison tolerable. Because..." I trailed off, my anger dissipating as quickly as it had come. "Because..."  
  
He dropped his towel on top of his shirt on the floor, and moved towards me. I backed up until I was pressed against the wall; he lifted a hand as if he was going to touch me, then he seemed to change his mind, and turned away.  
  
"Have your shower and leave, Draco," he said flatly. "Trust me, you don't want to be around me right now."  
  
I made a split-second decision to act on the thoughts that had plagued me ever since our last years together at Hogwarts. I stepped forward, and pulled him back to face me. I pressed my lips to his.  
  
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To be continued.  
  
Replies to reviews:  
  
Colibi, Blanche and janibo - thank you! And janibo, yes this is slash (there was a warning at the beginning of the fic).  
  
Hana-chan - 'fraid to say that you won't find out what happened to Narcissa for a while yet! And thank you!  
  
Jass - My updates are fairly regular - mostly every two days, sometimes even every day if I have the time to write. The longest you'll have to go without an update is probably three days. And as I've been saying, you will find out why Draco is in Talsgate...soon. I promise. Thank you!  
  
drika - *grin* thanks, but wandless Harry is firmly under my control. (Hey, Harry, what are you doing over there? Come back here!!!!)  
  
Ciara Moondagger - thanks! 


	7. Shower

Author's Notes: Slightly shorter chapter this time, I'm afraid. Again (I keep on saying this, but I feel the need) thank you all for the great reviews. I live for it, I swear.  
  
Disclaimer: See part one.  
  
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He didn't pull back. Neither did I, surprisingly - I had never been one for sticking to my convictions. His lips were...warm, and he tasted of thunder and lightning. My arm slipped around his waist, pressed him closer to me.  
  
Then I heard someone choke at the door. Harry pulled away from me swiftly, took one look at the intruder, and fled to a shower. I slowly turned to face the door.  
  
It was Blaise Zabini.  
  
I silently cursed the fates. So far I had managed to avoid Zabini as much as possible - I only really saw him during meals and exercise, since he had - I was told - finally learned his lesson about messing with Harry and his friends, and since I was part of Harry's group, he avoided me also. He had been in fights, but few with me or those I now considered 'mine'. Except Rubber, of course - they had an ongoing hatred of each other. I hadn't yet worked out why.  
  
I'd been lucky in avoiding him. But now he stood between me and the door, and there was a malicious glint in his eyes that I didn't like.  
  
And I knew Harry was going to be of any help in the fight that was surely about to come.  
  
Zabini took a step closer to me. "Well, well, well," he said slowly. "You and Potter. I never would have guessed."  
  
"His name is Harry," I said through gritted teeth. "What do you want, Zabini?" His grin widened. Oh yes, I knew that grin. I'd lived in a dorm room with him for seven years, after all. He wanted something to keep quiet about what he'd just seen...and it wasn't going to be something that I wanted to give him.  
  
I heard the squeaking sound of one of the showers being turned on. I glanced at the shower cubicles, then looked back at Zabini. "Get out of here," I said harshly. "You don't have a clue, Zabini."  
  
"Oh, don't I?" He took another few steps towards me. I concealed a grimace at the look on his face. "I know what I saw, Malfoy. What's to stop me from telling everyone?"  
  
I raised my eyebrows as I realised that whatever he said, it didn't really matter. Okay, maybe it would be a bit embarrassing, but it wasn't as if we were the first guys caught kissing in the showers. Heck, the other week I'd walked in on Gary fucking two-seven-one, whose name I could never remember. It was a regular occurrence; we were all men and unlikely to see any female for years. The prison as a whole was okay with it. Except the guards, but they didn't count. The only thing that never happened in here was romance, although there were always definite 'couples'. It was a form of protection...that I had as yet kept far away from. Those of us in closest to Harry usually didn't need to worry too much about protection; Harry didn't tolerate anyone who he liked getting hurt.  
  
Only Harry was ignoring the world only a few metres away. And Zabini's fist was heading towards my face.  
  
I slammed back against the wall, and gingerly rubbed my jaw whilst eyeing Zabini. I realised quite suddenly that I hated the man who had once been one of my best friends. I also realised that he really packed a punch; I felt incredibly sorry for Rubber, who was usually the recipient of Zabini's blows.  
  
"Get the fuck away from me," I seethed. I brought my fingers away from my lip; I saw blood. "Get away from me, Blaise."  
  
Zabini leered at me. "Give me a reason, *Draco*. Just give me a reason." I lifted myself off the wall; he was within reach of me now, and with a smirk I punched him hard. He stumbled backwards, and slipped on a wet patch on the floor - the prison shoes didn't really have any grip on them. I stood over him, glaring.  
  
"Well done," came Harry's voice, sounding oddly detached, from the shower door. Both Zabini and I looked up at him; Zabini scowled, scrambled to his feet, and left the showers at a half-run. I touched my split lip again and winced.  
  
"Here," Harry said, moving closer to me and holding out his damp towel. I took it slowly, and pressed it to my face. He was watching me, a strangely quizzical look in his eyes, but I looked away, and gave him back the towel. He chucked it over to the pile of soiled towels in the corner, awaiting the laundry call in the morning, and lifted my chin, examining the mark on my face.  
  
"Wow," he commented. "He's got stronger since I last fought him." He met my eyes again, and I couldn't look away. "Draco, don't kiss me again."  
  
"Why?" I asked quietly. "Why won't you let anyone in, Harry?" His eyes flashed in that way he had of showing that he didn't like something, and I bit my lip. It hurt. I tasted copper in my mouth.  
  
But he answered. "It's never a good idea to let anybody get close in prison, Draco," he said, a rebuke evident in his expression. "And I don't want that." His voice shook slightly, and I realised something that perhaps I should have realised before.  
  
"Who was it?" I breathed. "Who broke your heart, Harry? Because whoever it was, they're not worth letting your life slip by over."  
  
Harry flinched, as if I had struck him. Maybe I had. "Shut up," he ground out. "Don't talk about things you don't know anything about." He met my eyes one last time, then left me alone in the showers.  
  
I dropped to the floor, and curled up in a ball. For the first time since I had come to Talsgate prison, I cried.  
  
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To be continued.  
  
Replies to reviews:  
  
Chrisseee667, Derelictus, Ciara Moondagger, silentkaos, Eien, janibo, Colibi - thank you all!  
  
bwaybaby79 - You'll find out about why Hermione came to visit soon, I promise. It's a good reason. Sort of. And what you said that I hinted? Remember it.  
  
EnigmaDesdemona7 - *grins* thank you!  
  
Ice - you hit the nail right on the head - when I'm writing Chained I always picture it in black and white, with just a little bit of colour for some things - eg. Harry's eyes. And something is always left to say. Always. And yes, Hermione is a collaborator, not an all out traitor, but you'll find out more about that later when you find out more about the entire political situation in England. Which you will do. I promise. Although I can't say exactly when. *Grin* again though, thank you for your wonderful comments.  
  
black_ink - thank you! *Grins wickedly and nods head* yes, more questions are definitely raised than answered. Although all questions will be answered...eventually. I swear. 


	8. Damage

Author's Notes: I think my chapters are getting shorter. It's depressing me. Ah well, next chapter should be nice and long...well, long, anyway. Thanks for all the reviews.  
  
Disclaimer: See part one.  
  
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For three long days, nothing at all happened in the prison. We did not have our morning exercise, we were scarcely allowed out of our cells, and nothing was done about the damage in Helga Alley. The guards were jumpy, on edge, and barely paid any attention to us. We inmates, with little communication between us, worried about what was happening.  
  
And because we were only really let out of our cells for meals, I had no chance to talk to Harry. Not that I really thought that he would talk to me, but I needed to try.  
  
It was on the fourth day that the reason for the disarray in the prison became clear. For the first time since Harry's visitor, we were taken into the yard for our exercise. For half an hour, nothing happened. Then the far door, the one that was only ever opened for prisoners going in or out, was opened.  
  
We all froze. Harry, at the other end of the yard from me, furthest away from the door, froze and let out a small moan, clapping a hand to his forehead. A wave of terror washed over me, and I abandoned my line, fleeing to near Harry, where the other prisoners concealed us a little.  
  
But not enough. When *he* stepped through the door, his eyes immediately searched out first me, then Harry.  
  
The guards hurried up, bowing deferentially to him, as we all stayed still and silent where we had stopped. They conferred for a few moments, then the guards hurried us all back inside. Harry met my eyes, and jerked his head at the men moving inside, indicating that I should go also. I impulsively grabbed his hand and forced him to come with us - I don't know what he would have done had I not.  
  
Everyone was hastily locked in their cells, except Harry - and I stayed next to Harry, so the guards left me alone. *He* stood in front of us, lazy red eyes flicking between us as though trying to see what was between us.  
  
I could have told *him* the answer to that - absolutely nothing. Yet.  
  
Then *he* stalked past us, inspecting the damage in Helga Alley. *He* touched an stray bar of metal that had belonged to a cell door, and whirled around to face Harry.  
  
"You did this?" *he* hissed. "How?" Harry stared impassively back at *him*, not bothering to answer. I looked between them; there were words unsaid here, that they could understand and I could not. I didn't like it.  
  
"Answer me!" *he* snapped. Harry lifted his eyes from *him*, looked slowly around the men gazing out of their cells on Helga Alley, then looked at me for a moment before returning his green eyes to meet the red ones of his enemy.  
  
"Why should I?" he retorted coolly. "I don't answer to you, Tom." I flinched; no-one ever, ever called him that name. I'd found that out the hard way.  
  
Voldemort raised his thin eyebrows, a look of anger on his face. "No," he said slowly. "I suppose you don't." He lifted his hand and beckoned over one of the nearby guard, who came and bowed low. That display of obedience made me feel sick; what had this man - no, this creature - done to deserve such unfaltering loyalty? For I knew that the guards here were loyal to him, they weren't just co-operating, collaborating with him for the sake of their lives and their families' lives. He had done nothing to deserve it except kill and torture the innocent, and maim all of England, wizard and muggle alike.  
  
"Keep Potter locked up," he instructed the guard, keeping his eyes fixed on Harry. "He is not to be let out, do you understand?"  
  
The guard shuffled his feet nervously. "Yes, my Lord," he agreed. "But - my Lord - we tried that before, if you recall, my Lord. We couldn't keep him locked up." I glanced at Harry, surprised - why did he stay in here, then, if they could not hold him? I got no answer from his eyes which were, as per usual, hooded, unreadable. Sometimes I thought that I would never get any answers from him.  
  
Voldemort's eyes flickered. "Just what can you do, Potter?" he demanded.  
  
A small grin settled onto Harry's face. "Wouldn't you like to know," he taunted. He took a step backwards, so he was just behind me, and then lifted his right hand, palm upwards. I frowned as his expression changed to one of deep concentration. Voldemort did not move, although he frowned faintly, but I stumbled backwards; I'd seen Harry like this before, and I knew what it was about.  
  
Harry glanced at me, before looking back at Voldemort. He said something, in Latin I think, although I had never been great at languages, and the world seemed to explode.  
  
I was shoved by against the bars on someone's cell; I could feel the bars shaking against my back. I squinted through the air that was suddenly thick and heavy, and I saw the men in the cells being pressed against the walls by some force. The guards had flown through the air as I had, but Voldemort had merely stumbled backwards a few paces. Harry tilted his head slightly, then shrugged.  
  
"Oh well," he said simply. "It was worth a try." He said something else in that language, and the air seemed to...relax. I slumped to the floor, trying to catch my breath. Voldemort took three strides towards Harry, brandishing his wand, and muttered something under his breath. Chains appeared around Harry's wrists and feet.  
  
"I advise you not to try to use magic again," he hissed. "It would not be pleasant for you." He glared at Harry for a moment longer, then he turned his eyes on me.  
  
I shivered. God, I hated him more than anything else in the world. And his eyes.those eyes on me, knowing my deepest, darkest secrets...I hated him.  
  
And he knew it.  
  
Guards hurried back to us from where they had been thrown, and grabbed Harry roughly, pulling him away down Helga Alley, then turned in the direction of isolation. The prison was deathly silent. Voldemort still had not looked away from me, and I returned his gaze evenly, though inside I was shaking.  
  
Then he walked down the alley towards the main entrance. I was stupid then; I was blind with fury at him, at the injustice that was our world, and I let it rule my actions.  
  
I lunged at him, and knocked him to the ground.  
  
Fortunately - for me and for him - there was a guard close by who pulled me away from him rapidly. Voldemort slowly rose to his feet again, brushing off his fancy robes. I, held by the guard, glared at him, wishing that looks could kill.  
  
Oh, if looks could kill.  
  
Voldemort said nothing, but looked at me with a disparaging sneer, and left.  
  
The guard who held me back twisted me around, and put handcuffs on me. "Stupid," he snapped. "Very, very stupid."  
  
He took me through the prison to isolation. The men watched me pass, and my soul hardened.  
  
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To be continued.  
  
Replies to reviews:  
  
EnigmaDesdemona7 - I can't tell you whether it was Hermione or not - but you will find out soon. I think. I swear. Maybe. Anyway, thanks for your comments.  
  
Hana-chan - Of course there will be consequences to the kiss! But you'll have to wait to see them, because Harry's, er, tantrum kinda had repercussions. But you're right, it wouldn't be easy to get to Harry.  
  
Nyghthawk28 - Thank you! And you're sort of right about Harry working magic...but all will be explained...eventually...and I already update at 1- 2 day intervals, I can't write any faster than I do!!  
  
TaraAngel - Thank you! Good guess about who broke Harry's heart...you'll have to wait and see. *evil grin*  
  
Derelictus - yes, I took snoggage away. Well, I had to. Neither of them were being cooperative.  
  
Demeter - are you so sure that they *did* have a thing? Did I ever say that? One thing I should probably say is that you should never, ever take anything that's been written for granted, unless it has been stated in full. Which practically nothing has, I know. *Wicked smirk* it will be, I promise. The thing about Hermione being a collaborator, again, will become clear once I get Harry and Draco actually sitting down and talking to each other (like that's going to happen in the immediate future :) ), and is important for explaining Harry's past. Trust me, everything has a purpose. Of some kind. Anyway, thanks once again.  
  
Jubilee - Thank you! Well, chapters come soon but information doesn't. That's not to say that it never will...  
  
Fin-Phoenix - More will be learnt about Harry's power, in fact a little more is learnt in most chapters from now on, but the bulk of it will not happen until...well, the latest will be five chapters from now. Thanks for your comments.  
  
tsuki neko - thank you!  
  
KawaiiKowaiKoneko - Ah, who broke Harry's heart? Wouldn't you all like to know...no, Hermione wasn't *exactly* a traitor...you'll find out. Eventually. Anyway, thanks for your comments.  
  
ShadowWolf - I can't tell you! Wait for forthcoming chapters!!!  
  
Ice - sigh, I know the annoyance of FF.Net's uncooperation well. I hope it worked okay after you tried to review! Zabini: Yes, he is an interesting character, and he has an interesting background, that will, eventually, be explained in full. Or in brief at any rate. At some point. Yes, Blaise acts as though he doesn't expect to be seriously punished by Harry, and there is a reason for that. I can't really tell you much more than I have, but I agree that it is a strange situation. All three of them are strange guys, after all! Anyway, thank you once again for your comments.  
  
Funkegirl - Yes, all questions will be answered eventually. And no, eventually is not very soon, eventually is...eventually. Questions will (should be) answered in most chapters from now on. I think. Maybe. It all depends. Thanks for your comments.  
  
Kitori - Thank you - and yes, I have read the Tamora Pierce books, and I realised after I'd written the first few chapters that several of the names are the same. But they fit, and I'm not stealing anything off that wonderful author.  
  
moriavis - dark and disturbing...yep, that's what I was aiming for! Thank you.  
  
drika - Whoever said it was Ron?  
  
Colibi - thanks *grins wryly* I appreciate the honesty. Chapter nine should be longer. 


	9. Isolation I

Author's Notes: I have no idea how I managed to get this chapter finished so quickly - and it's a lot longer than chapters seven and eight. It's...a bit of a confusing chapter, I'm afraid. Although I suppose they all are...  
  
Disclaimer: See part one.  
  
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In three months at the prison, I had managed to stay out of isolation - mostly because I had avoided fights at all and any costs. I had been told, before I had entered Talsgate, that any misdemeanours would get me into isolation, and I had also been told exactly what isolation was.  
  
I had been told that it was a row of ten cells, completely cut off from the rest of the prison. I had been told that if I was put in isolation, I would be alone all day in a small cell that contained only a bed, except for meals, which I would eat at a small table in the isolation block with whichever men happened to be in isolation at the time. I was told that I would have a light, but nothing to do except be with my own thoughts.  
  
They hadn't lied, but they hadn't told me everything.  
  
The guard opened the heavy metal door that led to the isolation block, and closed it behind me. Harry was standing in front of a cell, being searched roughly - I wondered what they were looking for, because I was also roughly searched. He lifted his head to meet my eyes; for a moment they were unguarded, but I could not name the emotion I saw in them. I managed a wry grin.  
  
He was put into the cell that I saw was numbered 'E-A'. Isolation block, I remembered, was called E. I was put into 'E-B' a moment afterwards. The heavy door was shut.  
  
The cells in isolation, I saw, were smaller than my own cell by quite a few feet. A bed, fixed to the floor, lay against the wall. I turned back to look at the door; the only opening in it was a small metal grill at about eyelevel.  
  
An electric light was fixed in the ceiling, held encased by a metal grill. I guess they didn't want us breaking the glass and trying to kill ourselves with the shards.  
  
Or maybe that was just my opinion.  
  
I realised that since it was probably only about nine in the morning, I now had several hours in which there was nothing to do except wait for lunch.  
  
And after that, I had several more hours until supper. And even more hours until breakfast. And then...  
  
It occurred to me that I didn't even know how long they were going to keep me in here. It could be hours - although that, I had to admit to myself, was very unlikely - it could be days, or it could even be months, after what I'd done.  
  
What I'd done. I sat down heavily on the bed. Had I really knocked Lord Voldemort to the ground? I had. I didn't regret it, I realised. Not at all. I'd been waiting to do that for...well, if not years, months. Months of hating, months of suppressed fear and loathing and disgust and trying to hide my reactions...and all I had done was knock him to the ground.  
  
I was disgusted with myself. Had I been a Slytherin or not? I had acted like a Gryffindor, rushing in and acting without thinking at all.  
  
But then again, did I really want to be a Slytherin, when *he* was the very embodiment of Slytherin? Maybe not...but I still was one. And I had acted altogether too Gryffindor-ish.  
  
And besides, I reminded myself, it wasn't as if Harry had done much better.  
  
His attack had been far more impressive though.  
  
And I suddenly understood why isolation was so hated by all the inmates.  
  
I felt an irrational fear for the coming hours that I would spend...alone...with only my thoughts...this was what I had been strenuously avoiding for three months.  
  
I was very much looking forward to lunch, even if Harry was the only other person in isolation at the moment - he might not want to talk to me, especially after I had...kissed him...but at least I would be in the company of someone other than myself.  
  
Sometimes I really hated myself. Or maybe that was just the being-alone- for-more-than-ten-minutes part of me. The only time I'd spent completely by myself in the last three months had been at night, when I slept as much as possible. Now I had to be alone during the day, when I couldn't sleep.  
  
After all, that was the whole point of this block, right?  
  
I wondered how Harry was doing. He had been in isolation many times before, I knew, mostly because of interrupting fights - the guards jumped on him for that, even if it usually stopped people getting bloodied up. In fact, if I thought about it, Harry had never looked angry or upset when taken to isolation, as everyone else did.  
  
Maybe he liked being alone with his thoughts. I was sure, from various hints that I'd picked up so far, that he had plenty to think about.  
  
So did I, come to think about it. I rose, and started pacing around the cell. It wasn't as nice to pace around - it wasn't as big, so I guess that was the problem with it. Maybe this wasn't so bad, though. It was time to think about things that I'd pushed to the back of my mind for what seemed like forever, though it was only a few months.  
  
What was I thinking? Isolation was really beginning to get to me, and I'd only been in here for fifteen minutes. How was I ever going to last, for however long they kept me in here without, thinking?  
  
Somehow, I didn't think I would.  
  
I flung myself back onto my bed, and clung to happy thoughts of pleasant nothings - sunshine, daisies, Quidditch - no, not Quidditch, too high, that reminds me off -  
  
No. Stop thinking. Not thinking. Thinking of nothing. Nothing at all. I used to think of nothing, I remember I was very good at it, I thought of nothing when Daddy called me to the study...no, no, no, no, no, think of nothing, not daddy, nothing, not daddy...God, I wanted to know what he'd done to Mother...I hope she's alright, she's got to be alright, she only wanted to make sure I was safe, it's not her fault that she cares, she's my mother, and he's probably done something to her - he's probably hurt her just because she cares, and he never cared, no, no, he never cared -  
  
Stop it! I couldn't think about that, I couldn't. If I thought about that, I would crack, and I really, really couldn't afford to crack. Not in here, not in Talsgate prison. In Talsgate you didn't crack, and you didn't cry.  
  
I'd cried. So had Harry, and I wondered why. When I'd first come in, he'd seemed.not hard, exactly, but cold, as if nothing really could affect him anymore. Well, I knew that wasn't true - any mention of his past affected him in some way. Granger's visit, only a few days ago - was it only a few days ago? - had made him cry, and I was sure that it wasn't just because she was a collaborator. There was something deeper there, something to do with the three of them, Harry and Ron and Hermione.  
  
I wanted to know who had broken Harry's heart, and I wanted to kill whoever it was. He was my Harry, and I didn't want him to hurt.  
  
God, I was getting so sentimental. Maybe that's why they don't use Azkaban anymore - eventually everyone in Talsgate ends up in isolation, so they all must go mad from facing their own thoughts. Maybe that's Voldemort's master plan. Get rid of all the criminals by leaving them completely on their own.  
  
Okay, maybe not. And besides, I already knew why they didn't use Azkaban anymore. I was really beginning to lose it.  
  
Beginning to? Heck, I'd already lost it. I'd slipped up, hadn't I? Malfoys never slip up, they never get caught, that was the very first lesson that I'd learnt, even before I learnt to speak, even before I learnt that I must uphold the Malfoy family honour. Malfoys never, ever, ever get caught.  
  
Not only had I got caught, I'd got caught helping the other side.  
  
Maybe they'd keep me in isolation forever. I mean, mauling the Dark Lord, the one who reigns supreme over everything, had to be bad enough to keep me in isolation for more than a few days or weeks. Maybe they'd even kill me - I know *he* didn't have any reason to want to keep me alive, not after what I'd done, not after my 'betrayal' of *him*.  
  
I don't think death would be so bad.  
  
I sat up slowly, and pulled up the sleeve of my prison shirt. I ran my thumb along the white scar on my wrist. I'd thought that before, and had nearly paid the price. That had been so long ago, and I'd barely thought of it since. Voldemort knew, though. He knew that I'd tried to kill myself during my last year at Hogwarts. Perhaps that's what he intends to happen to me in isolation. I'm sure it wouldn't be hard to find some way to kill myself in here, despite all the precautions they'd taken.  
  
I glanced up at the electric light again, the glass bulb taunting me, tantalisingly close.  
  
"What am I thinking?" I demanded aloud. I slid off the bed and leant against it, the cool metal floor cooling my nerves. I didn't want to kill myself, why should I? There was so much to live for.  
  
Okay, maybe not that much. But there was myself, and there was Harry, and all my other friends in the prison - Gary, and Claw, and Rubber...  
  
My thoughts strayed to Zabini. I wondered what exactly was going on between him and Harry. Because something was going on, the entire prison knew it. And I was certain that Claw at least knew what it was.  
  
Claw knew practically everything there is to know about Harry. I wondered why that was, as well.  
  
I hated isolation, and I'd only been in here for half an hour.  
  
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To be continued.  
  
Replies to reviews:  
  
Ice - Harry's power: Voldemort hasn't killed him because *****--censored-- **** . It will be explained, I promise. Good point about Harry showing emotion - remember it. Thanks for your comments. Again.  
  
Hana-chan - again, you'll find out more about everything as the story progresses. I really can't answer anything you said right now! Thanks for your comments.  
  
withset - thank you! Good observations...but I can't tell you what's going on! Your wild guess is absolutely...unanswerable, since if I answer that it'll spoil the rest of it. Have I given no clues as to where this is going? Good, good. Anyway, thanks for your comments.  
  
EnigmaDesdemona7 - well, I'm glad you like Harry in my fic! Excused to read Dragon Mage, gladly...  
  
Derelictus - you think the plot has thickened? Oh no, the plot was always thick, you've only just seen the surface before now. I have now taken you all snorkelling just below the surface. You can mourn the loss of snoggage, but it isn't coming back for a while. I promise not to get my hands mutated - was this chapter up quick enough for you? Eleven hours...it must be some kind of record for me... 


	10. Isolation II

Author's Notes: Wow, yet another chapter - that makes four in two days. I'm so proud of myself!! Anyway, I'd just like to reiterate that this is SLASH for those of you who may not have caught on yet.  
  
Disclaimer: See part one.  
  
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When it was finally time for lunch, I almost stumbled out of my cell; if I had not been claustrophobic before, I was afraid I would be now. Two plates of food - warm, steaming food -and two cups of water sat on the small table laid against the wall opposite the cells.  
  
I heard Harry's isolation cell opened, and the two of us sat down at the table. A guard watched us from near the door, but other than that we were completely alone.  
  
I realised that I had made it through the entire morning without cracking. I smiled down into my mashed potato.  
  
"Why are you in here?" Harry asked me quietly after a few minutes in which I had seen him play about with his food. "You're too smart to get into any fights, and I know you've avoided isolation."  
  
I raised one eyebrow. So he was talking to me. That was novel. "The same reason you're in here," I told him. "I, uh...I attacked him. The Dark Lord. I knocked him to the ground." I reddened a little on his sharp look. Then he whistled, and began to eat.  
  
"Well done," he said, as if giving me praise. "You're one of the few to ever try the physical approach." I hadn't known that - I wondered if Harry had ever tried to attack Voldemort physically.  
  
"Why didn't your spell work on him?" I asked suddenly - that had been nagging at me all morning. "I mean - you're really powerful, Harry. Why didn't your spell work on him?"  
  
His eyes were bleakly fixed upon mine, and I shivered. Maybe I shouldn't have asked...but I'd wanted answers, and I hoped that perhaps he would give them to me in here.  
  
Then he shrugged uneasily, and that lazy confidence returned to his posture. "Not everything works on everyone, Draco," he told me. "Some things cancel each other out."  
  
But what he meant by that, I had no idea. Or at least, I had some idea, but not enough to know what was going on with him. After all, I don't think anybody knew all that was going on with Harry - except Harry himself, of course.  
  
He was still watching me, green eyes flashing occasionally as he appeared to be thinking hard. Finally he spoke. I wished he hadn't.  
  
"Why are you here, Draco?" he asked me seriously. I froze, but then managed a shrug.  
  
"I told you," I answered lightly. "I tried to beat up the bastard."  
  
He shook his head. "You know that's not what I mean, Draco," he said warningly. "Answer me."  
  
I looked away from him. I couldn't answer him - how could I tell him just exactly what I'd done - and yet I couldn't *not* answer him. This was Harry, after all. But I...I didn't have words to say it yet. I looked up at him again, and shook my head silently.  
  
"I know you were working with the resistance," Harry reminded me in a low voice. Oh yes - that short conversation we had had on my first day in the tapping code that all resistance fighters knew. All I had told him was that I had been working with the resistance movement, nothing more.  
  
"Yes," I said slowly, finding my voice. "I was working with them. But I can't..." I shook my head. "If I tell you why I'm here..."  
  
"Fine," he said quickly. "I understand. Some things are not meant to be told." A shadow crossed his face for a moment, and I remembered the things he had half-said to me before...half-spoken words about Ron, and Granger, and something suddenly clicked.  
  
"You and Ron," I breathed. He looked up at me, his eyes piercing through me like arrows. "You were with Ron."  
  
"Shut up," he snapped. "You don't know anything about it, Malfoy."  
  
I ignored his warning. How could I have been so blind to it? Ron and Harry, Harry and Ron, it was the most obvious thing in the world. They'd been inseparable at Hogwarts, and afterwards, in the year when the war had been won by Voldemort, they had together led the resistance in a series of furious attacks on Voldemort and his supporters.  
  
Then Ron had been captured. He had been prisoner number one in Talsgate.  
  
...Voldemort tortured and killed him to get to me...  
  
...Were you expecting me to welcome you with open arms? Even if it hadn't been six years without seeing you, you're a collaborator, Hermione...  
  
...Why do any of you care?...  
  
...He's got stronger since I last fought him. Draco, don't kiss me again....  
  
"My God," I breathed. "My God, Harry." He sipped his water, then slammed the cup down onto the table. It clanged, and a small echoed reverberated around the isolation block.  
  
"Be quiet," he hissed.  
  
I ignored him. "You...and Ron - and Granger, she gave them Ron...why didn't I see it before?" Yes, why hadn't I seen it before? It was so obvious - and Harry was now absolutely furious.  
  
"Keep quiet about things you don't have a chance in hell of understanding, Malfoy!" he snapped. I realised, with a vagueness that shocked me, that I hadn't yet heard him yell in Talsgate - and everyone else did it frequently.  
  
But I didn't see why I hadn't realised it before. Harry and Ron had been together. Granger, who had been a collaborator ever since Voldemort had won - I'd heard through the gossip vines that she'd been told to either cooperate or die - had given them Ron, inadvertently or not, I wasn't sure. That was why Harry hated her so much, that was why Granger hadn't visited, that was why she had seemed to feel that she was worthy of his forgiveness.  
  
I met Harry's eyes again; he was watching me inscrutably.  
  
"Well," he said simply. "Now you know more about me than most others." He rose, finished with his meal. "Share it with anyone, Draco, and I will make sure that your life is worse than hell."  
  
He turned swiftly and retreated into his cell; the guard hurried up and bolted it, shooting strange glances at me.  
  
I was dumbfounded. I'd confronted him with what had happened, and I wasn't dead.  
  
Inanely I wondered how Blaise Zabini fitted into all this, for I was sure he fitted into it somehow. Although I supposed that it didn't really matter. Not at the moment, anyhow.  
  
The guard approached me to return me to cell 'E-2'. I looked up at him.  
  
"How long am I in here for?" I asked quietly; I needed to know, as much for my sanity as anything else.  
  
His eyes seemed to hold a small glimmer of sympathy. "Until the beginning of next week, for you and one-oh-two both," he told me. "Then you're both locked for two weeks."  
  
Alright. I supposed that wasn't so bad. Although I didn't have a clue in hell what day of the week it was...and I wasn't stupid enough to ask the guard - he was a guard, after all, and I was an inmate. Some things just weren't done - even by me.  
  
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To be continued.  
  
Replies to reviews:  
  
T.K. Yuy. (of chapter eight) - again, thanks for your comments. If chapter eight took your 'holy shit' award, I'd hate to think what chapters nine and ten might do...  
  
Kitori - thank you! I update as fast as I finish writing...I guess I just haven't had much to do today! Yes, I won't tell - you will find out.  
  
PVipertooth - Thank you - don't wildly guess at who hurt Harry, you'll only be disappointed!  
  
Derelictus - again, you'll find out what Draco did eventually. Not yet though, this chapter and the one after are Harry's. Random guesses...yes, everyone is making them, aren't they? Well, go ahead, be my guest...just be prepared to be disappointed!  
  
black_ink - thank you - the length will be...many chapters. As long as it takes, basically. I don't have a story plan, just a plot plan. Does that make any sense? As to where it's headed...no-one knows except me, and that's the way I'm keeping it for the time being. *evil grin* You'll find out how Draco can 'change the balance of power in England' soon enough. Or not.  
  
Colibi - thank you! Harry and Draco are 24/25 years-ish. Six years after their last year at Hogwarts.  
  
kit - all the answers to your questions will be coming, eventually.  
  
Mauve Lipgloss - Thank you! Although I've never said that it's Harry/Draco...And it wasn't Hermione, as you have read above. As to his fear of heights...it doesn't really have much to do with why he's in prison...you'll see.  
  
XaXona - thank you!  
  
AnnePhoenix - potential typos excused. Thanks for your honesty about how you felt about Chained up until chapter nine - I appreciate that it takes all kinds of interests to keep the Harry Potter fic rolling in. Yes, Chained is very...out of character for Potterverse, and all the characters are more human - less magic, certainly, since they've had to live without it. Anyway, thanks for your comments.  
  
chrisseee667 - Thank you!  
  
EnigmaDesdemona7 - Thanks - and you shouldn't say that about Blaise! There're reasons why he acts like he does. Partly, yes, it's the reason he landed in Talsgate...and I can't tell you that yet. Sorry. Actually, not, but...Anyway, I've been writing very fast today, but don't expect them to always be this fast!! 


	11. Rumour

Author's Notes: I had intended to have this up last night, but I suppose life doesn't work like that! I hope you all like this chapter, it's taken two re-writes to get it finished...  
  
Disclaimer: See part one.  
  
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When we were finally released from isolation, Harry retreated to his cell and ignored me for the next week. Which didn't really matter, since he was ignoring everyone else as well. As for me...I only talked to Claw, Gary, Eddie and Rubber, all of whom were entirely unsympathetic - Rubber went so far as to drag me to some of the courses in the afternoons.  
  
I ignored him, but went to the courses anyway, since I knew Harry wouldn't. Not after what had happened.  
  
It was at the end of the week that something happened to get Harry talking to me - and I won't say again, since he had never really talked to me in the first place. I'm sure he had his reasons...but after what happened - actually, after the two things that happened - he really began talking to me in earnest.  
  
The first thing was that Gary had a visitor, and returned to my cell - where we were all messing about - grim-faced. We fell silent, and a shiver of premonition ran through me. I don't think I'd seen him this grave, not in three months.  
  
"What's wrong?" Rubber asked quietly. "What did your visitor say?"  
  
Gary glanced at him, then looked at me for a moment. "Harry ought to be here to hear this," he said reluctantly. "Draco..."  
  
Right. Of course. Harry wasn't speaking to me. And he didn't want to say it twice. I shrugged, easily lying. "So go and tell him, I don't care."  
  
Gary looked suddenly angry. "Quit with the attitude," he snapped. "This is important - for you as well, because although at the moment I'm not sure why, Harry trusts you, and this affects Harry - and all of us, for all I know!"  
  
I stared. That was possibly the longest I'd ever heard Gary speak for at a time. Rubber, Claw and Eddie were staring at him as well, although probably for slightly different reasons than I was - his words had sunk in.  
  
He'd said that Harry trusted me. Harry trusted me. Me. Me, the betrayer of each and every side possible. Okay, maybe that wasn't quite true. But still.  
  
"I'll go and get him," Eddie volunteered, rising smoothly to his feet with his natural grace. "You guys just, uh, wait here."  
  
"Not a problem," Claw muttered, glancing between Gary and I. "No-one's leaving this cell until I say so." Hmph. And it was my cell as well. He couldn't have had his little power display in his own cell?  
  
Of course not. That would have defeated the object which was, of course, to keep me in line. In the pecking order of the prison, although I was higher than Eddie I was most definitely lower than Claw. Claw was only lower than Harry himself.  
  
I resolutely glanced away from Claw, my eyes roving over the wall of my cell searching for something, anything, to focus on. My walls were bare though - certainly I had no photos or pictures, because after that first visit from my mother I had had no contact with the outside world.  
  
Not that I really wanted any.  
  
The clinking of chains brought me back to the real world, and I glanced up; Eddie was reclaiming his seat on the floor, and Harry was standing in the doorway, his face - and eyes - as unreadable as always. His wrists were still bound in the chains Voldemort had put on him, but the chains on his ankles were gone - I assumed he had taken them off himself, and wondered why he kept the others on.  
  
"May I come in?" he asked me, a slightly sarcastic note to his voice that I recognised with bitterness as nearly identical to the tone in which I always had spoken at Hogwarts - before my eyes had been opened. I shrugged, and waved a hand at the cell.  
  
"Make yourself at home." Matching sarcasm for sarcasm, allowing a touch of my old arrogance into my voice, and he saw it, I know, for one eyebrow was lifted ever so slightly. He entered my cell, and seated himself on the bed next to Claw - Gary, who had been standing, sat down on one of the chairs.  
  
"So what's wrong, Gary?" Harry inquired lightly. "Must be something important."  
  
"It is," Gary said grimly. "I've just had a visitor, Harry - our mutual acquaintance Half-Eye."  
  
Harry seemed to do a double-take. "Half-Eye?" he demanded incredulously. "Half-Eye came here? Is he mad, or just stupid? He knows our visitors are monitored, or he ought to know!"  
  
Well, I hadn't known. I'd worried for my mother because of my father...a chill of fear ran down my spine as I thought of what the consequences might have been if Voldemort had also come to know of her visit.  
  
"Yes, he was here," Gary agreed, oblivious to or ignoring Harry's discomfort. "I told him it was a bad idea, but...well, you know Half-Eye - and he hasn't changed a bit in five years."  
  
"Of course not," Harry muttered sarcastically. "Why should he? Of all of the resistance he's the one least likely to get caught, so he assumes that he doesn't need to change."  
  
Was I missing something here? I hadn't a clue in hell who Half-Eye was, although he was obviously part of the resistance. But Eddie, Rubber and Claw looked confused also, so I knew it wasn't just me.  
  
"Who's Half-Eye?" Claw demanded. "He's in the resistance?" Well, of course. Even I had figured that one out.  
  
"Yeah," Gary agreed. "He's one of the operatives. He's." He trailed off, and looked at Harry. Harry shrugged. "He's a half-wraith," Gary went on. I went into shock. A half-wraith. The resistance were working with a half- wraith. Bloody hell. No wonder their information was always so good. It made me wonder why they'd even needed me.  
  
"A half-wraith?" Eddie queried. Claw looked similarly puzzled, but Rubber looked a little pale. I wondered why - he wasn't a wizard, although I remembered that he'd once said something about having a sister who was...he might have heard about the wraiths and the half-wraiths from her, but I doubted it. They weren't much talked of - indeed, before the war few had even believed that they existed.  
  
But they did exist, oh yes, they existed. And one was helping the resistance.  
  
Bloody hell.  
  
"A wraith is a being made of shadow," Harry said quietly, his eyes closed. "They can pass through walls and doors, windows, anything manmade. They're practically invisible, have fantastically good hearing, and all of them, without exception, have photographic memories. Needless to say, they're very useful as spies. Half-wraiths are the same, except they have human blood in them and so can appear human whenever they wish." He opened his eyes. "It's probably worth noting that the Dementors are related to them." Ah yes. How could I have forgotten that?  
  
"So why doesn't Voldemort have them as spies as well?" Claw demanded. "If they're that useful, I don't see why everyone doesn't use 'em."  
  
"Because they keep themselves to themselves," I put in. "They've never got involved with any human wars - at least, the wraiths haven't, and the half- wraiths are shunned by both sides and so stay away from everyone."  
  
Harry glanced sharply at me, as if surprised by the fact that I knew about them. Why shouldn't I? The Malfoy library was bigger than any collection in England - except quite possibly the Snape library before Severus Snape had given the whole lot to Hogwarts, mostly for the Restricted Section I might add. The majority of the books in our library had been on Dark Magic and creatures, and wraiths were nothing if not Dark.  
  
Rubber, I noted, was looking whiter by the second.  
  
"But this...Half-Eye is working for the resistance," Gary started again. "Merlin knows why, but he is."  
  
"I know him," Rubber spoke up quietly. "I know why he's helping them."  
  
All eyes were suddenly fixed on him. How could Rubber know Half-Eye? That was just...weird.  
  
"I, uh..." He was nervous, that much was obvious; he was twisting his hands in his lap, and he was still as white as...a white thing. "He's one of my relatives," he admitted finally. "I'm not a half-wraith, but there's wraith blood in me...somewhere."  
  
Was that what he'd been worrying about? "Interesting," I commented wryly. "Did you know there's Veela blood in me...somewhere?"  
  
Claw guffawed. "I never would have guessed," he commented sardonically. "You're only the best-looking guy in the whole prison - with the exception of Harry, of course."  
  
Did he have to say that? I glanced automatically at Harry - our eyes met, and I flushed a little, quickly glancing away to Rubber. He flashed me a thankful grin.  
  
"All this is very interesting," Eddie commented, "but can we please get to the point? It's lunch soon, and I for one am hungry."  
  
"You're always hungry, Eddie," Harry told him with a half-smile. "Gary?"  
  
Gary shrugged. "He said there've been rumours - he was careful to say rumours, mind - that the resistance is planning a large attack on some important building - he wouldn't say where, but he...dropped hints."  
  
"And?" Harry nudged, impatience clear in his eyes. I frowned; did it really matter to him? If he cared so much about what was happening in the outside world, why didn't he just walk out of here? He had the power to do it, I'd seen it, and Voldemort wouldn't be able to stop him. For that matter, why did he still have those chains on?  
  
"And from what he said, he thinks it's going to be here."  
  
Ah.  
  
That would explain why Gary thought this was so important, then.  
  
Bloody hell.  
  
It was when they all looked at me weirdly that I realised I must have said that out loud.  
  
Oops.  
  
"Well, it's what you were all thinking but didn't say," I retorted smoothly. Only Harry didn't smile; he had an odd look on his face. "Well, if they attack Talsgate or not, it's still lunchtime," I continued. "Come on - I'm starving."  
  
We all tried to joke our way through lunch, but somehow it didn't quite work - not with Rubber still a little pale, not with Harry so grim, and I suppose not with my own poor attempts at humour.  
  
If the resistance was going to attack Talsgate prison it could change everything - a lot of the men in here were political prisoners of some sort, not just murderers or thieves or resistance fighters. If we got out...if we got out, I knew there was a lot of damage we could do to Voldemort and his government.  
  
Still, it was only a rumour. It didn't mean that it was going to happen, and even if it was true, it probably wouldn't happen for months, if not years.  
  
I should have remembered that Muggle saying: Where there's smoke, there's a fire.  
  
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To be continued.  
  
Replies to reviews:  
  
chrisseee667 - yes, I wrote Dragon Mage. Thank you!  
  
Hana-chan - Thanks - Did I answer why Hermione changed sides? Did I *really*? You sure about that? You will be finding out about Blaise - and I'm going to give my standard answer here - eventually. As to Draco thinking about his life...he is in every chapter a little bit. He tries not to. It'll be explained, I swear.  
  
EnigmaDesdemona7 - Forgiven! Hope you had a good birthday.  
  
pagedown - no, the lack of information on what Draco's life was like after Hogwarts is very intentional. As it's all from his POV you'll have to wait until *he* thinks about it, and he really, really doesn't want to do that just now. Trust me, he will - fairly soon, I think.  
  
beautiful disaster - Thank you!  
  
T.K. Yuy - thank you! And you may just be right about not being able to hand out trophies per individual chapter...I hope you liked this one.  
  
Hedwig - thank you!  
  
Demeter - thank you! Again, the plot isn't thickening, it's always been thick! You're just beginning to see what else is happening! No, you're not seeing things that aren't there with Ron and Harry - but remember that things aren't always as they seem in Chained. And I hate to say it, but you are missing something about Hermione's role in Ron's capture. So is everyone, I hope, since Draco himself doesn't know the whole story. And I'm cruel? I put up four chapters in two days, how am I cruel!?! 


	12. Continue

Author's Notes: You're gonna kill me over this chapter, I swear...but I did get it up quickly! I did! Don't kill me!! Please!!  
  
Disclaimer: See part one.  
  
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Eventually we all mutually decided that since we couldn't live like coiled springs, waiting for something that might or might not happen, we would go about as normal and as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.  
  
Or as normal as possible - and of course we couldn't just forget about Voldemort's visit. Harry's chains were reminder enough - he still hadn't taken them off, and he still hadn't told anyone why. It was frustrating for the rest of us, because we knew he didn't have to wear them.  
  
We knew he didn't have to stay in here. And yet he did.  
  
The second thing that happened to make Harry talk to me was that one day, several weeks after Half-Eye came to visit Gary, Blaise Zabini found me alone in the showers.  
  
It was late afternoon, and the courses in the dining room had just finished - I'd been doing some woodwork, and had got covered in sawdust, so the obvious thing to do was take a shower. I'd finished rinsing off by the time I realised that I was no longer alone, and that the man who'd entered was Zabini.  
  
I slowly turned off the water and dried myself. I could hear Zabini moving around, but it was clear he wasn't having a shower. I pulled on my uniform and stepped out of the shower cubicle.  
  
He was standing bare-chested to one side of the room, leaning against a hand basin, washing a cut on his shoulder blade that he couldn't quite reach. He looked up sharply when I made a small noise, and I could see that he had a black eye as well as a split lip.  
  
I don't know what made me do it - perhaps it was because we'd once been friends, perhaps it was the possible threat of an attack on Talsgate, but whatever the reason, I crossed the room, took the towel from his hand, and washed the cut on his shoulder blade.  
  
"Who was it this time?" I inquired harshly. "Claw or Rubber?"  
  
"None of your business," he replied, equally harsh.  
  
"I'm making it my business," I told him, rubbing the towel over the cut harder than I needed to. He hissed in pain. "So. Who was it, Blaise?"  
  
"Neither," he admitted in a muted voice. "Birdie."  
  
That surprised me. Birdie and he were great friends, or so it always appeared. I had the sudden thought that maybe they were Slytherin friends - not both from Slytherin house, but the kind of friends that one tends to make when one had been Sorted into Slytherin.  
  
In Slytherin house, it is rare to actually be friends with someone. It's rare to have the kind of friendship that, say, Harry, Ron and Granger had. True, deep friendship. Friendship that lasts well beyond schooldays, well beyond work, well beyond reunions. That kind of friendship happens only once in a hundred years in Slytherin house. Our friendships were and are based not on trust, but on protection, on image, and on opportunities.  
  
They didn't last long. Such had been the friendship between Blaise Zabini and I, although we had the rarity of actually having some interests in common. So maybe Zabini and Birdie had a Slytherin friendship.  
  
Some of my thoughts must have reflected on my face, for he snorted. "Yes, Draco, we're like that. Though I don't see why you care - you're nice and safe under Harry's wing. Even the Dark Lord won't touch you, not now. Not all of us have that luxury. Some of us actually have to put up with getting beaten up by his friends."  
  
"He's the one who can do magic," I pointed out, rinsing the towel in the basin of cool water. "He's the one who's got the most power - in here, at least. You were a Slytherin, Blaise - act like one."  
  
"What makes you think he isn't?" came Harry's voice coolly from behind us. I whirled; Blaise lifted his head. Harry was standing in the doorway, his eyes glittering strangely. "Blaise?"  
  
"Birdie," Zabini replied simply. I frowned. Something was going on here that I was not privy to, and I didn't like it.  
  
"I'll talk to him later; he should know better," Harry muttered. Should know better than what?  
  
"Don't bother," Zabini said sharply. "He knows better now." Perhaps if I jumped up and down on the spot they'd notice that I was actually still in the room.  
  
Harry grimaced. "Zabini, while I appreciate that you have to retaliate to any and all threats against you, I'd like it if you didn't continually put everyone in the medical bay - you'll end up in isolation for it soon enough."  
  
"Sure, whatever," Zabini muttered.  
  
"Uh, hello!" I spoke up, a little angry now. "I'm still here! What the hell is going on?"  
  
Harry's eyes snapped to me, as if he had only just noticed that I was in the room. "Nothing for you to be concerned with," he told me quietly. "If your finished, could you leave us alone, please?"  
  
Well, he'd said please. Maybe I actually should go.  
  
But I wouldn't get any answers if I left. So I stupidly stood my ground.  
  
Harry's eyes flashed. "Out, Malfoy," he said curtly. "Before I decide to see how much magic these cuffs will really let me do."  
  
Okay, so maybe I wasn't so stupid after all. I bolted. I wasn't about to risk my neck trying to find out something that they obviously didn't want me to find out about.  
  
But I hadn't been a Slytherin for nothing. I stayed outside the door; I could hear muted voices, then some other sound. I risked a glance through the doorway.  
  
And promptly left the alley, shaking with disbelief. My cell was at the other end of the prison; how I made it there I'm not sure, but somehow I did, and ended up on my bed.  
  
Salazar, Merlin and Godric!  
  
Of all the things I had half-expected, *that* was certainly not it.  
  
I hoped I'd been hallucinating, although I was fairly sure there'd been nothing in the wood dust I'd inhaled to make me see anything, let alone *that*.  
  
Bloody hell.  
  
There was a noise at my cell door, and I looked up to see Claw regarding me with a sombre expression.  
  
"So," he said at last, "you know."  
  
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To be continued.  
  
Replies to reviews:  
  
JaiyAlex - Thank you!  
  
Mage Of Fire - thanks. Did Hermione give up Ron and Harry? Did I say that? And JK Rowling never said whether Zabini was a boy or a girl, so I've made Zabini a boy for the purposes of this fic.  
  
Hana-chan - since the prison attack may or may not happen, I can't say anything about it, *evil grin*.  
  
Leon - thanks - you thought Draco had too little personality: remember that Draco has been thrown into a situation that could be potentially hostile if he doesn't play his cards right. Also he has changed considerably from the Draco we all know and love to hate in Hogwarts. You also though that Harry is acting like a god - well, I suppose in a way he is, but he's been placed into this role and had to cope with it as best he can. He has also changed a lot from the sweet and innocent Gryffindor. Anyway, thanks for your comments.  
  
EnigmaDesdemona7 - thanks! Yes, Rubber is part wraith, but it doesn't *really* play a major part in the plot, it's mostly just there to explain more about Rubber, who *will* become an important character at some point. Just do me a favour, okay? Don't kill me over this chapter!!  
  
Savannah - thank you - and it's meant to be incomprehensible. However, I will answer as many of your questions as I can. Yes, the Dark side won. The prison is controlled by Voldemort's government, and yes, he himself. The guards aren't really benevolent, it's just they appear that way sometimes because of Harry. He didn't use the Dementors because *****-- censored for spoilers--*****. He doesn't kill them all because some of them are only in for petty crimes, like theft or assault, and will be let out fairly soon. Hope that answered some of your questions, and thanks for your comments.  
  
Hippy Flower(Voldie's kid - Is this more soon enough for you? 


	13. After

Author's Notes: A short chapter, I'm afraid, but it ended where I wanted it to, so...again, I'm pleading here. Don't kill me?  
  
Disclaimer: See part one.  
  
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I spoke to no-one for an entire day, still trying to process exactly what I had seen, and exactly what Claw had told me. And everyone left me alone - I assumed that Claw had told them too, or they wouldn't have. I stayed in my cell except when I had to leave - it was strange that now, after only a few months, this small space had become my home, my safe place in a huge safe place.  
  
A place that was being threatened from without by the resistance, and threatened from within by the madness of us all.  
  
Okay, so we weren't all mad. Just some of us. Like me, and possibly Claw, and definitely Harry Potter and Blaise Zabini. Yes. Definitely those two.  
  
It was about half an hour before curfew that day when Harry finally got around to coming to see me. He had obviously been told something by Claw, but little enough that he still looked a little puzzled when he stood at the door of my cell and asked to come in.  
  
He always did that - asked to come in. He never, ever entered another's cell without asking permission. Nobody else every did that - we all just went into our friends' cells without thinking about it, unless they weren't there. That was taboo. But no-one ever *asked* to enter a cell.  
  
Remnants of the innocent Gryffindor in him, I supposed.  
  
"What do you want?" I asked curtly. I really didn't want to talk to Harry, not after -  
  
"Claw suggested that we need to talk," Harry told me, one eyebrow raised in that annoying way he always had of looking uninterested in whatever was going on - with me, usually. "I didn't know what he was on about. Why do we need to talk, Draco?"  
  
"We don't," I muttered. "Get out, Potter."  
  
He couldn't have looked more surprised if I'd up and sprouted wings. I'd never called him that after that first night; I'd had too much...respect for him, I suppose, and besides, it just wasn't a good idea. But now...now there was no-one else here, and I could care less whether he got angry at me or not.  
  
I wondered how long they'd been doing what I saw last night.  
  
Harry's eyes narrowed a fraction. "You saw."  
  
"Yes." I didn't care if he knew - why should I care? Realistically speaking there was very little he could actually do to me in here. He could beat me up, true, although it would be quite hard to do that magically and not draw the attention of the guards, and I was fairly sure that I was stronger than him physically. Well. There was about a fifty- fifty chance that I was stronger than him, anyway. Not great odds, but I was willing to bet that he wouldn't like them either.  
  
If it came to that, which I knew it wouldn't. Harry very rarely resorted to physical violence.  
  
Harry was watching me carefully now. I was fairly sure that he didn't know why what I'd seen was disconcerting me so much - *I* wasn't even too sure on that point. Well, I knew a little, of course. But surely *he* couldn't know.  
  
"Are you going to tell anyone?" he anted to know, breaking the silence. Oh. So that was what he was worrying about. I wondered whether it was his reputation he was concerned about or Zabini's safety. I hardly cared. I didn't want to share this with anyone - and there were scarce few who would believe me.  
  
"No," I said, suddenly feeling very tired. "No, I'm not going to tell anyone."  
  
And almost relieved expression flitted into his eyes for a moment before they became shielded again. To be quite truthful, I couldn't muster up enough energy to care whether he was relieved or angry.  
  
"Good," he said quietly. "Thank you."  
  
He was thanking me for keeping quiet. Thanking me for tightening the damn noose around his neck. What's that saying?  
  
Give him enough rope and he'll hang himself.  
  
Maybe that's what Voldemort's up to with him. Maybe that's why Harry's in here, not dead.  
  
But then again, if that's what Voldemort's doing, it's not working fantastically well - Harry hadn't used magic in several days, and he still had the chains on. Harry was cleverer than Voldemort gave him credit for - cleverer than most people gave him credit for, I imagine.  
  
"Draco? Are you alright?" He looked concerned now, concerned at my silence, my abruptness. Good. He ought to be.  
  
"I'm fine," I replied evenly. For once I was grateful to my father for teaching me how to lie. "Just tired, that's all." I waited a beat. "If you don't mind, I think I'm going to sleep. Besides, curfew's in fifteen minutes. You wouldn't want to be caught out of bed."  
  
He left, with an inscrutable glance at me.  
  
God, I wished we were given alcohol. I really wanted to get drunk.  
  
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To be continued.  
  
Replies to reviews:  
  
T.K. Yuy - thanks!  
  
chrissseee667 - was this quick enough for you? And sorry for the cliffie. *Grins evilly* was this chapter a satisfactory follow-up?  
  
Baby Ty Ty - Cruel? Me? Nah. Thanks for your comments - snogging will come, I promise, just.not now. Soon. Maybe. And I've actually done very few cliffhangers. Two, maybe.  
  
Derelictus - it's a suggestion of nothing. As per my usual. Nothing is unless I've stated it in full, remember? And, uh, please don't have heart attacks because of my story. Please.  
  
Blanche - this soon enough for you?  
  
Piri Lupin-Snape - I'm not cruel, I swear! Maybe a little evil, but not cruel! And I don't know if what happened is what you were thinking...neither do you yet! Well, enquiring minds may have to know, but not yet!  
  
The Millennium One - thanks, and it's supposed to be confusing.  
  
Kellie, hey, mandraco, freaking out - thanks!  
  
_-_:-|## - Please don't kill me! Please! Birdie is one of the prisoners in Talsgate.  
  
EnigmaDesdemona7 - have I ever said that Harry and Zabini have a thing? Have I?  
  
Jubilee - don't rip your hair out, dear, it'll hurt. Blaise Zabini is mentioned in the first book at the Sorting - in the English copy that's page 91, but I don't know about in the American copy.  
  
silentkaos - ah, what happened. A question that many have asked...in vain.  
  
Leon - of course I'm a sadist, I write fanfiction, don't I? Thanks for your comments. 


	14. Hurts I

Author's Notes: Thanks for the reviews, although I will say again that I swear I'm not evil.  
  
Disclaimer: See part one.  
  
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"Tell me why I put up with him?" growled Claw from my left.  
  
"Yeah," Gary muttered from my right. "Why do we put up with him?"  
  
"Uh, because if you get into another fight with him - either of you - you'll end up out cold?" Rubber offered from across the table.  
  
"So why do we put up with him?" Claw repeated. I sighed. They'd been having this argument on and off for three whole days, and I for one was getting sick of it. Eddie gave me a sympathetic smile from across the table - he hadn't been around for a lot of it, since he'd only been released from isolation this morning...because of a fight with the object of the argument.  
  
Blaise Zabini. Who else? At the moment he was busy flirting with one of the men on his table. I wouldn't have minded that so much if it wasn't for two things: first, this was a prison not a bar, and second...second, it was making Harry look angry as hell. His eyes were smouldering, but he didn't look away from his plate, doggedly eating the potatoes that everyone else had given up on because they were hard as rocks.  
  
Not that I wanted Harry and Zabini to be on speaking terms. But I hated seeing Harry this angry and upset - so did all of us.  
  
And this had been going on for three days.  
  
Thus, the arguments.  
  
I was getting a headache, and I knew I wasn't the only one.  
  
The argument, when I listened again, had moved on from 'why do we put up with him' to 'why the hell aren't we doing anything about him'.  
  
"Because there's not a thing you can do," I chimed in crisply. Claw, Gary and Rubber looked at me in surprise - I hadn't spoken up in this argument before.at least, not for a day or so. "Leave it, why don't you."  
  
"Fantastic idea," Harry spoke up, finally finished. "Quit, it, all three of you. It's not helping the situation." He looked around at us all, and sighed. "Look, I'll talk to Zabini about it later, okay? Let him know it's annoying everyone."  
  
Sure. Like that would really help. It was obvious - to me, at least - why Zabini was doing what he was doing. It was because he wanted attention, from Harry in particular. In some respects Blaise hadn't changed in ten years.  
  
Or maybe I was wrong. But Harry rose, and the moment he reached the door Zabini was out of his seat and following him.  
  
Perhaps it was just because I knew now, but he seemed to be less discreet than he had been before.  
  
On second thoughts, I decided that it wasn't just because I knew now. Something was wrong with those two, and I didn't know what. Aside from the whole 'screwing each other into the wall' thing. I mean, if that wasn't wrong what was?  
  
But there was something else going on.  
  
"Draco, are you coming or not?" Rubber asked me, a little impatiently. I glanced up to find that the others had gone; Rubber and I were the only ones left at the table. Huh. I wondered how that had happened.  
  
"Yeah, I'm coming," I said vaguely. "Sorry..."  
  
Rubber frowned at me. He took the plate from my hands and took it across the room, dumping it in the bowl. Then he returned, lifted me from my seat by my shoulders, and propelled me out of the dining room. He didn't take me to my cell, but to his.  
  
Rubber's cell was number ninety-six, next to Gary's cell, on the ground level of row A, on Godric Alley. They were almost opposite Claw's cell, but not quite. I had only ever been into Rubber's cell once, and it was one of the barest cells there were in the prison - almost as bare as mine, in fact. He had a single photo on the wall over his bed of what I assumed was his family, and that was it.  
  
"Okay, what's wrong with you?" he demanded once he'd pressed me into a chair. I blinked in confusion. There was something wrong with me?  
  
"I have no idea what you're talking about," I told him simply. "Why would you think there's something wrong with me?"  
  
"Because for the past couple of days you've been in a world of your own," he told me, with a gentler tone in his voice than I had heard from anyone in this prison. "Ever since...ever since..."  
  
As it looked as though he wasn't about to finish his sentence, I did it for him.  
  
'Ever since I walked in on Harry and Zabini?"  
  
Without showing the smallest hint of embarrassment, Rubber nodded. "Why are you so upset about that, Draco?" he wanted to know. "I mean, we all know it's less than ideal, what's going on with them, but you...you're taking it worse than the rest of us did when we found out. Is it because you were at school with them both?"  
  
Oh. I suppose that might be why I was furious at the whole situation. I mean, at Hogwarts it had been Blaise and I - and Crabbe and Goyle, but they'd hardly counted - against Harry, Ron and Granger. Maybe I was still subconsciously prejudiced against Harry and Zabini being coupled together in any sense.  
  
That sounded like something that Granger would have said - not that I really knew her at all. But it wasn't true. I didn't really want to admit it, but I knew it wasn't true, and more importantly I know *why* it wasn't true.  
  
Not that I was going to admit that to myself, let alone anyone else.  
  
"Draco!" I blinked, and looked obediently at Rubber. "Draco, you did it again. What is going on?"  
  
"Damned if I know," I groaned, and buried my face in my hands.  
  
Footsteps. I hoped against hope that it wasn't Claw, Zabini or Harry - any of those or a combination would probably prove near-fatal to me at the moment.  
  
I wonder if I was at all given to melodrama. It was quite possible, I mused, considering the sort of thoughts I'd been having over the past few weeks.  
  
"I'll see you later," I heard Rubber say, and then he left. I risked a glance, lifting my head from my hands to be met with clear green eyes, the eyes that had haunted my every moment - waking and sleeping - ever since I'd first seen him in that shop on Diagon Alley, in the summer before our first year at Hogwarts.  
  
"Do you think I'm given to melodrama?" I asked him suddenly. He stared. "Right. Sorry."  
  
"Why do you ask?" he wanted to know, clearly a little amused. "Not that I think you aren't," he hastened to add, with a small smile this time. I didn't smile back. "Draco, is...are Zabini and I bothering you?" he ventured.  
  
Wow. Such a Sherlock. I wonder how he'd ever made it as part of the resistance with *those* kind of realisation capabilities.  
  
Great. Now I wasn't even making sense to myself.  
  
"No," I said curtly. "Not at all. Why does everyone think that something's wrong with me?"  
  
"Because something bloody well is!" Harry snapped. I froze; he hardly ever swore. "Dammit, Draco, talk to us!"  
  
"Why should I?" I said, a little spitefully. "Why should I talk to any of you?" I shook my head. "Harry, you know - or you ought to know - what's wrong with me. It's all your fault, as per bloody usual."  
  
"And now you're acting like a child," Harry retorted. "What did I do, Draco?"  
  
"What didn't you?"  
  
The question hung in the air between us as we each held our breath, scared of what was being said and what wasn't. I shouldn't have asked that, and I knew it, and he knew it.  
  
But it didn't matter. I exhaled, exasperated, and stood up. I made to push past him, but he grabbed me, and held me in front of him.  
  
"Don't bear a grudge, Draco," he told me evenly, his eyes glinting. "Not in here."  
  
"Don't fuck Blaise Zabini," I snapped. "He leaves everyone."  
  
Sudden comprehension dawned in his eyes, and I broke away. With one last look at him, I left Rubber's cell and sought safety with Eddie and Gary, who were animatedly playing poker.  
  
I didn't see Harry again until the next day; when I did, it was not pleasant.  
  
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To be continued.  
  
Replies to reviews:  
  
T.K. Yuy - thanks - as to why Harry doesn't see it...well, I have to keep a little of 'old' Harry in there, don't I? You'll see what I mean, eventually.  
  
Blanche - Thanks!  
  
Hana-chan - Well, you now know what Draco saw! Don't assume about Harry and Blaise, it'll just disappoint you in the end!  
  
gryffcat - thanks! And I update at least every day, although at the moment it's more like twice a day, since I'm on summer holiday.  
  
Hippy Flower(Voldie's kid - Thanks! And the bribe would work better if it was a chocolate muffin...  
  
Piri Lupin-Snape - I am so not evil! Well, not much...And Draco may still want to snog Harry, and he may not. You'll have to wait and see. As to your questions: You'll find out about why Harry stays there and half-Eye's info soon, and also Sirius, Remus and Severus. Very soon. I promise *evil cackle*.  
  
The Millennium One - thanks for your honesty, but short chapters aren't necessarily bad. It was meant to be an abstract chapter, since Draco was reeling from what he'd seen.  
  
_-_:-|## - thanks - and they *are* on more of an even ground than before, although it's still a little rocky.  
  
Squeeqee - You're not the only person to say Chained is like a drug! I can't seem to disagree...  
  
iluvbadboys1313 - this fast enough for you?  
  
anne phoenix - me, a tease? Never! 


	15. Hurts II

Author's notes: So far I've been called only two adjectives from writing Chained: evil and cruel. Couldn't we all just move away from those to fantastic for updating so much? Oh, alright, I admit it. I'm evil, I'm wicked, I'm cruel, I'm the Devil incarnate. At least this is the third update today, right?  
  
Disclaimer: See part one.  
  
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I didn't see Harry again until the next day; when I did, it was unpleasant.  
  
I walked in on them arguing in the showers - it wasn't me alone, for once. Rubber and I were going to have showers after one of the afternoon courses - which I was beginning to take on a more regular basis, merely because Harry wasn't taking them much.  
  
Harry stood at one side of the room, Zabini stood at the other. Both looked utterly furious - not surprising, considering they were in the middle of a flaming argument, which they were having as quietly as possible. We didn't hear them until we actually reached the door.  
  
They silenced as soon as we stepped in.  
  
"What's going on?" Rubber asked mutedly, taking a step towards Harry. "Harry?"  
  
"Nothing's going on," Zabini spat spitefully. "Nothing at all." He spared me a rage-filled look, then pushed past us and left the showers. Rubber looked slowly between Harry and I, and then followed Zabini.  
  
Had they...broken up, although that wasn't really the right terming. They'd never been an item officially, so they couldn't have broken up. All they'd been doing was...not even having sex. What I'd seen had been too...rough, too animalistic to be called sex. They'd been fucking, pure and simple.  
  
I happened to know from experience that Blaise Zabini is a very good fuck, especially when all you wanted was physical release, and possibly a little reflected protection.  
  
I assumed that Zabini had wanted the reflected protection from Harry, just as he had from me.  
  
But I didn't know all the details. Maybe I was wrong about the whole thing.  
  
Maybe if I looked out a window I'd see pigs flying as well.  
  
I realised that we'd been silent for well over two minutes, so I stepped forward and tentatively touched Harry's arm.  
  
He jerked violently, and I retreated a step, anxious not to...anxious not to what? To press him into admitting all, the way I'd been pressed by my father? No. I wouldn't do that to him.  
  
"Harry?" I ventured.  
  
"Don't...say...a word," he warned me, almost viciously, and I nodded slowly. Okay, I wouldn't speak. I leant up against the wall and watched him - I knew that sometimes watching can be enough to make someone spill their guts.  
  
He looked at me after a moment, his eyes bleak and a little scared. "Draco...what did you mean yesterday?"  
  
Oh. That. Right.  
  
I'm not Muggle or superstitious, but I crossed my fingers behind my back.  
  
"Zabini and I...were together for a short time in our sixth year," I told him simply. "Not really a relationship, I guess. Fucking. Same as you two."  
  
"Yes," he said bitterly. "Just fucking. That's all life is, really."  
  
I frowned. Oh no, he was not going to go down the same path as I had when Zabini had left me. That way led to hurt and pain and solitude.  
  
"No, it isn't," I said sharply. "Life is living. Life is making it better than it is. Life is..." I trailed off. Who was I kidding? Life had fucked me over royally, and it had done it worse to Harry.  
  
"Exactly," he said dryly. "Life is crap."  
  
"Not all of life," I muttered. "Some things...there are some things worth living for?"  
  
"Of course," came the sarcastic reply. "Name one."  
  
"The resistance," I said after a moment. "They're fighting for what's right, Harry, and they're fighting for you. Did you know that wherever they attack they leave a sort of calling card - a symbol, I guess. A lightning bolt." He met my eyes in surprise. Ah. He hadn't known that. "Did you know," I continued ruthlessly, "that before I got caught spying for the resistance, Voldemort told me that the resistance was becoming a serious threat? Did you know that -"  
  
"You were spying for the resistance?" he interrupted incredulously. "You?"  
  
Oh. Shit.  
  
"That's not the point," I muttered. "The point is, you're Harry Potter. You're the hope of thousands - millions, even - out there, Harry. You can't just give up because Blaise sodding Zabini walked all over you and dumped you. Trust me, he's done it to plenty others."  
  
"Why do you care what happens to me, Draco?" he asked tiredly. "Why do you, of all people, care - especially after I -" He didn't finish his sentence, thankfully.  
  
"I care because I don't want you doing what I did - or tried to do, anyway," I admitted. "And Zabini leaves people a mess." I didn't add the real reason, the main reason, but I was fairly sure that he knew it anyway.  
  
He did. I could see it in his eyes, but he didn't speak it yet.  
  
"What did you do, Draco?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as dry sobs choked him. Well, at least he wasn't really crying - I'd be *really* worried then.  
  
I didn't answer him, not verbally at least. I pushed up the sleeve of my uniform and held out my wrist. He caught hold of it and ran his thumb over the thin white scar there.  
  
If he'd looked, he would have found a matching one on my other wrist.  
  
I remembered that Madam Pomfrey had been frantic over whether I'd live or not. I hadn't cared at all, but then they'd called my father...my father...father...  
  
I blinked. Harry was watching me again, a strange look in his eyes, one I hadn't ever seen before.  
  
"Damn, Malfoy," he murmured. "You're going to be the ruin of me one of these days."  
  
Before I could even process that comment, he had stepped towards me and kissed me, his arms tight around me, not willing to let me move an inch.  
  
I didn't mind. I moaned into his mouth, and snaked my arms around his neck. He still, I noted with half my mind, tasted like thunder and lightning.  
  
So different from *him*.  
  
I pulled back a bit, gasping for breath. He rested his forehead against mine, his eyes fixed unrelentingly on mine.  
  
"Mine?" he questioned, pressing me closer to him. Ah, so he wanted it like *that*. Of course, in here, *that* was all that we really could have...although I believed in no gods, I found myself fervently praying that the resistance *were* going to attack Talsgate.  
  
"Yes," I murmured. "Yours." He leant in to kiss me again.  
  
But was stopped by Gary running into the shower.  
  
"Are you two killing each other, because there's - " He stopped, staring. "Bugger."  
  
"I rather thought that was the point," I said under my breath, as Harry pulled away from me.  
  
"What's wrong, Gary?" Harry asked, as naturally as if all Gary had found us doing was, um, something innocent.  
  
"Depends on your opinion of wrong," Gary replied after a moment in which he gave me an unreadable look. "There's a new prisoner, going into cell two- three-four."  
  
"Second level row C, Salazar Alley," Harry informed me swiftly before I'd even opened my mouth to query - okay, I didn't know where every single cell was, but I'd been here what, four months? "So what's the problem with the new guy?" Harry went on.  
  
"It's Sirius Black, Harry."  
  
Bloody hell. Harry stayed frozen for a moment, then he shot from the showers as fast as he could; I followed, and I kept up easily. Down along the side of the rows, into Salazar Alley and up the metal stairs, across the gangway that went across between the second levels of each row, and along to cell two-three-four.  
  
Bugger it, it really was Sirius Black. I'd hoped that Gary had been wrong, but I suppose with someone as famous as him...  
  
Harry was standing at the doorway of the cell, staring in shock at his godfather. Black was standing in the cell, one hand supporting himself against the wall, gazing at his godson with an eerie look in his eyes.  
  
Then Harry pushed himself forward and showed the most emotion I have ever seen him display in Talsgate by hugging Black. Black was muttering something incoherent, but I could tell that Harry wasn't really listening, he was so overjoyed to see his godfather again.  
  
I couldn't help but wonder how Black had been caught...or why he had allowed himself to be caught.  
  
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To be continued.  
  
Replies to reviews:  
  
Squeegee - it was fast, wasn't it. Was this faster? You'll see why Harry stays, eventually.  
  
Draco Malfoy N Harry Potter - Don't worry about being lazy to review, when I read fics I often don't review until the last chapter unless it's a cliffie (I know, lazy Sparks). And I do post quickly, so you have an excuse.  
  
Demeter - sigh, here we are back with the cruel person I apparently am. I do write fast, so I ought to be forgiven. Actually, it *is* said before the end of chapter 14, it's said about...ooh, a third of the way through, I guess. You just have to be reading carefully. Don't worry, everyone is missing stuff about Hermione - who, incidentally, will turn up in several chapters. Of course, my several is usually everyone else's baker's dozen...  
  
withset - no, I'm not writing day and night! It only takes me one or two hours on a good day to write a chapter, and I'm on summer holiday with nothing else to do (mostly) so I'm devoting my time to writing. Not that I'm aware of any of you complaining!!  
  
drika - again with the evil! But thank you.  
  
Derelictus - well, after this chapter I hope some assumptions have been chucked aside in favour of fact, because trust me, most of this chapter was stated fact. Mostly. And if I'm evil *and* a goddess divine, does that make me an evil goddess?  
  
Hippy Flower(Voldie's kid - fantastic bribe...pity it's virtual, not real.  
  
T.K. Yuy - oh no, not you calling me evil too! You're pretty much the only person who hasn't said that of me yet! Sob. Did it answer questions? Hmm. Well, this chapter was supposed to, but last chapter wasn't really, so I'd be careful with your assumptions. Sigh, I suppose I am on an updating streak, aren't I? It isn't my fault, I'm as hooked on this damn fic as the rest of you are - possibly more so, since I know what's going on!  
  
Leon - of course Draco isn't going to get revenge! Not after this chapter, anyway...  
  
Nagini - MY Draco, I think you'll find...and Sirius has shown up - are you happy? And I maintain that I'm not evil...oh, I said that I was up there, didn't I... 


	16. Sirius

Author's Notes: So I turned on my computer this morning and, as usual, went to check my reviews for Chained. Immediately I squawked, fell out of my chair, and turned into a gibbering mess (it's true, ask my brother). Oh my God, thank you all so much for those fantastic reviews!  
  
Disclaimer: See part one.  
  
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It took five minutes for Harry to get himself back to reality after the shock of seeing his godfather; by the time he had, Gary, Claw, Eddie and Rubber had joined me outside the cell door. Harry waved us all in, and we took various seats about the cell, although we wisely left Harry and Black to sit on the bed.  
  
"Sirius, these are Gary, Claw, Rubber, Draco and Eddie," Harry reeled off, gesturing at us vaguely. "You lot know my godfather, by reputation if nothing else."  
  
A small smile lit up Black's eyes, if only for a moment before he looked serious again.  
  
Oh God. I just made the ages-old joke, didn't I? Well, it was entirely unintentional and not aloud, so I forgot it and looked up at Harry, waiting for the inevitable question.  
  
Which Harry didn't ask. Rubber did.  
  
"Why are you in here?" he demanded. "I mean, you haven't been caught in six years - more if you count the years before that after.....oh, what's it called?"  
  
"Azkaban," I supplied. "Although you have to remember that Fudge was in charge then."  
  
"And he was a complete idiot if ever there was one," Gary agreed, with a viciousness that I hadn't expected from him. I was surprised - but I'd weasel it out of him later, probably.  
  
"And here I was thinking I'm an idiot," Eddie said in mock-hurt. Claw guffawed.  
  
"No, Eddie, you're just a bottom-less pit," he retorted. Then he looked back at Black, who had been watching our banter with a little confusion. I suppose that was only to be expected - the prison he'd been in before, after all, was Azkaban. And Azkaban, even before the Dementors had been given free run of it, was...not pleasant, to say the least.  
  
"Does it have something to do with what that...Half-Eye told Gary?" Claw wanted to know. "The possible attack on the prison?"  
  
Black spared a measuring glance at Harry for a moment. "I really couldn't say," he said finally.  
  
He didn't trust us. Well, of course he wouldn't, he didn't know us, but that didn't much change the fact that after being trusted in here, not being trusted again hurt. But it wasn't just me, I at least had that comfort.  
  
Harry narrowed his eyes slightly. "Right." He looked us all over for a moment, then sighed. "Could you guys...meet me in my cell in about half an hour?"  
  
"Is that exactly half an hour, or more or less half an hour?" Eddie wanted to know, ever the comedian. "Because I know Gary here has some sort of perfect inner clock, but we all know how Draco is about being anywhere on time."  
  
"And we all know how you are about getting to the dining room first, Eddie," I teased him back. "You must be in agonies over waiting two whole hours for more food."  
  
A triumphant grin spread over Eddie's face. "Ah, but I don't have to wait," he crowed. "I have a bar of chocolate in my cell - my cousin sent it to me, God knows why. And I'm going to go and eat it."  
  
"Not on your own, you don't," Rubber said with deep conviction, and they rattled out of Black's cell, followed at a more leisurely pace by Gary and Claw, who glanced back worriedly a couple of times.  
  
I stayed where I was, despite Black's glare.  
  
"Draco," Harry said quietly.  
  
"I'm perfectly comfortable where I am, thank you," I said evenly in reply. Black glared at me. I didn't move so much as an inch; he may be Harry's godfather, and very influential in the resistance, but by kissing me like he had and claiming me as his, Harry had effectively pulled me up the pecking order to be on a level almost equal to his. And I would be damned if I let Black push me out.  
  
Besides, I was the most recent addition to the prison besides Black, and I knew more about the outside situation than most in here did.  
  
I freely admit that I also had selfish reason for wanting to talk to Black. He would know if anything had happened to...to Mother.  
  
Harry caught my eyes fiercely for a moment, then he nodded. "Draco can stay," he told Black. "Sirius...why are you here? Not that I'm not pleased to see you, of course, but..."  
  
"There must be a reason," I finished for him. Black glanced between us, sighed, and nodded.  
  
"Yes, there's a reason," he admitted. "I assume Half-Eye got in and out safely?"  
  
"You don't know?" I demanded, startled. He *ought* to know, being who he was, but maybe...  
  
"No," he admitted. "I wasn't told, in case...well, in case this happened." I frowned. So did Harry.  
  
"You let yourself get caught," he accused. "You - I don't believe you, Sirius! Of all the stupid, insane, crazy -" He cut himself off, his eyes smouldering.  
  
"Harry," Black started smoothly. "Don't worry, we have it all planned out. Yes, I let myself get caught, but they needed an inside man to get you all ready for what's going to -" He broke off abruptly. "Is it safe to talk?" he asked urgently.  
  
I rose from my seat on the floor and checked the cells around Black's; they were empty, and I remembered that only one of them had any occupant at all. I looked down over the railing, and immediately wished I hadn't. I gripped the railing, unable to move.  
  
Someone grabbed hold of the collar of my uniform and jerked me away from the edge, back inside Black's cell.  
  
"Someday," Harry said, with no little amusement, "you are going to tell me why you can't stand heights." Shaking, I sat down - on a chair this time - and ignored Black's curious stare as Harry checked around the cell.  
  
"There's no-one around - Claw and Gary will have got rid of them all - but I'd...I'd feel more comfortable if I put a deafening spell around the cell."  
  
Black stared, I chewed my lip - a nervous habit I'd picked up from the guy in the cell across from mine.  
  
"Harry, won't he know?" I queried. "I mean...he warned you..."  
  
"He won't know," Harry assured me. "Or at least...at least I don't think he will. I don't have those chains on, so he shouldn't be able to monitor me so closely - just the prison in general, and he'll assume it's a guard."  
  
"Okay," I murmured, but I wasn't satisfied. True, he no longer wore the chains, and I'd realised that they were some sort of magical monitor, but still...when dealing with Voldemort...  
  
"What on earth are the two of you going on about?" Black demanded. "Harry, do you really trust him?" He waved a hand at me. I narrowed my eyes.  
  
"Yes, I really do," Harry asserted, sparing me a glance. I fought to prevent a grin from spreading over my face at this first verbal confirmation of something I had hoped - suspected - was true. "Hold on, Sirius, I'll just...*Non audius*."  
  
I felt as though I had suddenly gone a little deaf; I shook my head, and my ears 'popped'. Harry was doing the same, Black was merely sitting on the bed staring in disbelief at Harry.  
  
"It's safe to talk now," Harry said after a moment. "No-one outside the cell can hear us." He looked expectantly at his godfather, who was still dumbfounded. Harry suddenly looked a little abashed, and I was struck with how differently he was acting now he had his father-figure back with him, even if it had only been scant minutes so far. He seemed...younger. More innocent, in a way, although also not. It was...strange, and disconcerting.  
  
"How -" Black choked. Harry waved it off.  
  
"Not important right now," he said. "You're here because of something to do with the attack that Half-Eye wouldn't say was happening."  
  
"Yes," Black agreed, clearly not really focusing on what he was saying. He shook his head, and started paying attention. Well, good. I would rather like some information this side of tomorrow. "Only it's not really an attack."  
  
"Oh?" Harry was instantly curious, and leant forward slightly. "So what is it?"  
  
"It's a takeover."  
  
Hmm. Not really an attack then.  
  
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *  
  
To be continued.  
  
Replies to reviews...all of them...:  
  
Squeegee - ooh, thank you! Severus...I can't tell you anything about Severus yet!  
  
Draco Malfoy N Harry Potter - yes, three chapters in a day. Don't expect that today, is all I can say!  
  
Countess Twizzler - oh, some people like women. I think.  
  
Hippy Flower(Voldie's kid - Mmm, more muffins...  
  
Nagini - is there any reply to your review? Thanks...but I'm afraid free monkeys don't quite inspire me to write more...  
  
Hana-chan - thanks - and you're right, Harry and Draco do balance each other out. Somewhat.  
  
T.K. Yuy - hmm. Forgiven, then. I suppose 'Hurts I' did answer some general questions...alright, I concede to you on that point. As to Sirius - well, you've seen some of that this chapter, and you'll see more in the next.  
  
drika - *good* evil? There's a *good* evil? Hmm. Anything for more, huh?  
  
::-^ - thanks! And you'll see more Draco-Sirius interaction next chapter, and the one after. I think. And I don't been at all guilty in revealing that Harry won't ignore what's happened. No, not at all. But...dammit, can't tell you that.  
  
zeyner - thanks! Snape, as I said above, can't be commented on at the moment. Hermione will be talked about soon, I promise. Maybe.  
  
Maddy - thank you! I'm glad you feel that way about the OC's, I tried very hard with them to make them feel as natural in Chained as Ron and Hermione do in the actual books. Sorry, Harry won't open up much (yet, anyway) and there's little fluff at all in this! It's all pretty much darkness...but I'm glad you like it despite what you usually read. That shows that I've done my job of interesting you! Ooh, I'd win an award? Yay!!  
  
Piri Lupin-Snape - Ooh goodie, you don't think I'm cruel anymore! Your questions: I can't say anything about Remus right now, and Albus...ooh, I don't know whether I should say this, but I'm going to anyway...Albus is ****--censored--****. Sigh. Sorry, couldn't do it. Yes, I suppose I do update very quickly, don't I? (Possibly my biggest understatement of the century). But I only write...maybe just about 2000 words per chapter, something like that, so I finish faster. None of you are complaining though!  
  
chrisseee667 - I know it's not exactly a regular pairing...thus the basis of its appeal to me.  
  
bwaybaby79 - Oh good, yet another person who doesn't think I'm cruel and evil! About Harry and Blaise: You'll find out more when Harry and Draco actually get around to talking about things, which won't be for ages yet. Plus you'll pick up things along the way. A word to the wise: I have a tendency to leave off answering questions until it becomes natural for my characters to answer them in normal conversation, for example you didn't find out what Draco saw until he comments that 'them screwing each other into the wall wasn't wrong', or something to that effect. And yay, yet another person who likes my OCs!  
  
lostgrl - thanks!  
  
Eien - ooh, I'm a goddess, I'm a goddess! And it wasn't *that* bad a cliffhanger...not so bad as this one, anyway...  
  
AngelKity - Yes, they're together. Sort of. And don't worry, I think all my readers are somewhat confused about this fic, even if some of the confusion is gradually being cleared up.  
  
Nexus - I can't answer your question yet, sorry!  
  
Jeannie - ooh, praise is good. Thank you! 


	17. Jealous

Author's Notes: I'm not too sure about this chapter, but I'm posting it anyway. If it's crap, tell me and I'll re-write it. Maybe.  
  
Disclaimer: See part one.  
  
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Sirius settled into life in Talsgate faster than anyone ever had, claimed Rubber, who had been here longest. He was making friends by supper, and it was really, really getting on my nerves.  
  
Alright, so he had supposedly always been popular when he'd been at Hogwarts, and okay he was famous, but really! He'd been an escaped convict for five years!  
  
Oh. Maybe that wasn't such a good argument to use in here. Hmm.  
  
Well there's always the fact that he was monopolizing Harry's attention, and I really didn't like that.  
  
Understatement. I hated that.  
  
No, I think that again was an understatement. I really, really, really loathed, detested, felt a fiery rage at that.  
  
Gary, the only one of our group who knew about...me and Harry - and I very much hoped that there was a me and Harry and it hadn't just been a mistake on Harry's part - gave me a sympathetic look, then proceeded to laugh his head off at Sirius's jokes. Which, alright, may have been a little funny, but he was a traitor to laugh.  
  
Then I realised that I was possibly behaving very badly and as though I was jealous, which of course I wasn't, so I actually listened to the banter around me, and even cracked a smile once or twice. Maybe three times.  
  
But I didn't wait for everyone else after I'd finished. I dumped my plate and cup, and returned to my cell. I didn't do nothing though; I read a book. For several months now there'd been an unofficial library of the few books that we'd been sent by friends or relatives. It was effectively run by Tom of cell three nine-oh, and my turn had finally come to borrow a book. Since most of them were Muggle, I was spoiled for choice. I'd selected Lord of the Rings, since I remembered someone raving about it at Hogwarts.  
  
I was halfway through the first volume, and I rather wanted to finish it before I had to give it back.  
  
"Were you jealous?"  
  
I lifted my eyes from my book, somewhat aggrieved at being interrupted, even if it was Harry.  
  
"Why on earth would I be jealous?" I retorted grumpily. If he was going to ignore me and then interrupt me, then he could just deal with the consequences.  
  
Harry raised one eyebrow, and I remembered just who it was I was dealing with. Damn. And I was looking forward to actually having an attitude for once.  
  
"Come and sit down," I muttered. He stepped into my cell and sat on the end of my bed; I bent my knees to accommodate him.  
  
"You were jealous," he stated, pulling the book from my hands, closing it and setting it down on the table. "I want to know why."  
  
Hmph. Like he didn't already know. I returned his gaze evenly, one eyebrow slightly raised. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he leant against the wall leisurely.  
  
"We were interrupted earlier," he commented. I felt like rolling my eyes, but restrained myself. "We."  
  
"Need to talk to Black," I interrupted him, surprising him and myself. "About the...takeover. If it really is that."  
  
"No," Harry contradicted me. "We need to talk about Blaise Zabini."  
  
I blinked. Had I heard him right? In the face of a possible takeover of the prison by the resistance, he wanted to talk about Blaise Zabini, the man who had just left him for trash like he'd left every other single person he'd ever been with.  
  
Talk about crazy.  
  
"Are you fully aware of what you just said?" I inquired pleasantly. He stared at me. "You just said - or as near as doesn't make any difference - that you'd rather talk about - and think about - Zabini, who by the way is little more than a slut, when something is about to happen that very possibly could change everything in England!"  
  
Harry's face closed up. "Maybe I did, maybe I didn't," he said edgily. "I need to make sure that you're not going to do something stupid to Blaise - Zabini," he corrected himself. "It would...it would be a bad idea, Draco."  
  
"I'm not stupid," I retorted, furious that he'd thought I might do something like that - I wasn't stupid, and I had been a Slytherin, not a Gryffindor - *I* wasn't about to rush into anything without thinking about it carefully.  
  
Then I sighed. Under the circumstances I suppose it was perfectly reasonable for him to think that - after all, for most men in here the answer to most things was a good hard right hook.  
  
"I wouldn't do that," I said at last. "That's not...that's not me, and besides...I don't want to give him any more dirt on me."  
  
Harry gave me an oddly thoughtful look. "Hmm. That's what I thought you'd say." He looked away for a moment, and when he looked back at me he had returned to being the Harry I'd come to know over the past few months; cold, hard, and not a bit annoying.  
  
"Now that that's over," he said, and I knew it was over and would never be alluded to again by him from his tone of voice, "we can talk about Sirius."  
  
"Do you think he was telling the truth?" I asked him immediately. It was something that had been nagging at me ever since Black had explained to us what was supposedly going to happen here in three weeks time. I couldn't help but think that maybe.maybe it wasn't Sirius Black. Maybe it was, I don't know, Polyjuice potion, or something similar. I couldn't help but think that it might be a trap to catch Harry out.  
  
Harry looked at me askance. "Of course he is; why ever shouldn't he?"  
  
But of course Harry wouldn't think ill of his godfather. He might have changed, but he and Black, I was aware, had always been close.  
  
"I don't know," I muttered. "I just...it seems like too much of a coincidence, all this happening. I mean...Granger, when she came...she said something about rumours...and then Voldemort coming after you, uh, blew up Helga Alley." Which had since been repaired, but that wasn't the point. "I don't know, Harry, I'm just...worried."  
  
He reached up and tucked a strand of my hair, that had grown considerably, behind my ear, startling me. I blinked.  
  
"Don't be," he told me. "It's not worth it. Just..." He shrugged and pulled his hand back. "We'll need to tell the others," he commented. "Since we didn't say anything earlier."  
  
I nodded. Right. Black had suggested that we tell the whole prison - I think he expected that we were all unified - but Harry had told him that it wouldn't help, and it might even make the plan fail.  
  
I think the funniest thing about the whole situation was the look on Black's face when he realised that Harry had grown up.  
  
"I'd better go and find Sirius," Harry said after a moment, rising. I nodded again - sometimes I felt like I was doing little else in here - and he gave me another inscrutable look before leaning down and kissing me hard.  
  
Oh.  
  
"Showers, one hour," he breathed, and then he was gone.  
  
I grimaced. Bloody idiot. He does *that* and then expects me to wait an hour?  
  
I grabbed my book again and tried to concentrate on Frodo's journey through Moria.  
  
It didn't really work.  
  
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To be continued.  
  
Replies to reviews:  
  
anne phoenix - who says I don't sleep much? I sleep...sometimes...  
  
mandraco - ooh yay, I like you! You're not calling me evil! Thank you.  
  
Maddy - yes, more already. Um, ow? And I do take breaks for more than six hours at a time. I sleep seven hours at night from when I post a chapter to when I start writing the next. There, see?  
  
T. K. Yuy - Perfect? Really? Wow. Yes, it was lighter - I needed a little lightness to, uh, lighten it up a little. It's getting back to darkness...as I said above, I'm not too sure about this chapter, but I think it's darker. The next chapter certainly will be. I think. There wasn't too much of Sirius in this chapter, since I wanted to concentrate on Draco's reactions so some things, but trust me, there will be next chapter. 


	18. Early

Author's Notes: I've just realised that there actually aren't that many chapters left of this. And since I've realised that, I decided that I'd say so, just to give you all fair warning, since from some of your reviews I think a couple of you might have heart attacks if I just, y'know, ended it.  
  
Disclaimer: See part one.  
  
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The next day was the day that I'd subconsciously been waiting for, for about seven years, I guess. It was the day that I got to pound Blaise Zabini into the floor...and it wasn't even my fault. Well. In my opinion, at least.  
  
It was at breakfast, and since I'm not a morning person I collected my porridge - which had even less sugar in now - and was sitting at out usual table, eating it without paying attention to anyone else in the world.  
  
Until Harry walked in, that is. Memories of the previous night flooded me, and I gritted my teeth. Damn him to hell and back, he'd still be perfect at the end of it.  
  
And if he heard me saying such sentimental stuff I don't know what he'd say. Probably that I was eating too many mushy peas, that we got served every single lunch without fail - except Sundays, when it was carrots instead.  
  
Black was with Harry, looking perhaps a little worse for wear after spending a night in his cell. Well, everyone adjusted to the caterwauling of Mack after a while, it was just a question of time.  
  
Harry sat opposite me, Black beside me. Rubber, who was sitting next to Harry, winced. Black, as pretty much everyone knew by now, was a fairly loud, very talkative person.  
  
I wouldn't say that I wasn't talkative, it's just, well, I'm not at my best in the morning.  
  
Perhaps it wasn't Black's smartest idea ever to sit next to me in the morning. But I couldn't say it was his stupidest idea - that honour fell to going after Peter Pettigrew instead of looking after Harry.  
  
"Morning, Draco," he greeted me cheerfully. Rubber and Harry both flinched. I barely lifted my eyes from my bowl, and muttered something unintelligible. To the normal, sane person, this would have been enough to make them go away.  
  
Of course, I don't think anyone had ever classed Sirius Black as sane. From across the table both Harry and Rubber were making 'stop, stop' gestures. Eddie had made the mistake of cracking one joke too many on a morning just such as this, and he'd ended up with a black eye, so they all knew what I was like in the mornings. I'd apologised to Eddie, of course. If I punched Black I wasn't sure that I would.  
  
"Draco? Are you okay?" Black ventured.  
  
I put down my spoon carefully, took a deep swallow of water, and then poured the rest of the water over his head.  
  
I didn't wait to see his reaction. Somehow I knew it wouldn't be to give me a bunch of roses. I dumped my bowl and was halfway to the door when Blaise Zabini stepped in front of me.  
  
I halted. He was glaring at me as if I was a piece of dirt on his shoe.  
  
"Whore," he spat at me.  
  
For a whole three seconds I was frozen in place. Then his word sank in.  
  
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," I breathed. "You're calling *me* a whore? Looked in the mirror recently, Zabini?"  
  
"Hey," said Harry warningly from where he was sitting. "Drop it, both of you." We ignored him.  
  
"Can't get your own, Malfoy?" Zabini hissed. "Have to go stealing someone else's?"  
  
What? I risked a confused glance at Harry, and was punched hard in the jaw, sending me sprawling back a few paces. Zabini turned and started walking away. Oh no. Oh no, Zabini did *not* just punch me and expect to get away with it.  
  
I leapt on him. I managed a good couple of punches by the time he threw me off and shoved at me. I ducked out of the way, and punched him again. I was ready to do it again when I was roughly pulled back. I realised that the whole dining room was ringing with noise, and that several men were holding Zabini down.  
  
I tried to pull away from whoever was holding me, but I couldn't, so I knew it was Claw. I relaxed, and he slowly loosened his grip.  
  
"That was very, very stupid," he snapped at me, clearly infuriated. "What the hell were you thinking?"  
  
"I don't think he was, particularly," Harry said softly, appearing next to Claw, his eyes holding the faintest hint of disappointment. I didn't care. From what I could see of Zabini, he had two black eyes, a bloody nose, and a split lip. My only damage was a bruised jaw...and possible several knocked-out teeth.  
  
Dammit, I didn't care one bit. I felt...free. I'd had the shadow of Zabini hanging over me for seven years, mostly in the physical form of the identical scars on my wrists, but I'd knocked him to the ground and spoiled his pretty face, and made him realise that maybe, just maybe the world didn't revolve around him.  
  
The fact that several guards were approaching me with grim expressions, obviously intent on taking me to isolation, didn't really do much to dampen my mood.  
  
Especially since I could see two guards grabbing Zabini as well. Despite Harry's disappointed look, despite the furious glares I was getting from all my friends, I grinned unrepentantly.  
  
We were half-way to isolation when *it* happened.  
  
The thing that wasn't supposed to happen for another three weeks.  
  
The thing that made a huge explosion, although Zabini and I couldn't see what had caused it.  
  
The guards looked at each other, and then ran towards where the explosion seemed to have happened. I looked at Zabini, and he looked at me.  
  
Then we followed the guards, along with half the rest of the prison. Somehow I found myself next to Harry - and I was glad of it with what faced us at the main entrance.  
  
The door had been burst inwards, and was now sitting in the middle of the alley, a bulk of melted metal.  
  
The guards who had left Zabini and I were on the floor, stunned.  
  
Several very familiar people were standing in the doorway, brandishing wands. More of them spilled in, spreading out around us prisoners, and around the prison, obviously looking for guards.  
  
We were all too dumbfounded to say anything. That is, until a dark-haired man with a habitual sneer stepped forward from the newcomers.  
  
"You weren't supposed to be here for three weeks!" Sirius snapped, stepping forward away from the rest of us. "What happened?"  
  
"Change of plans in case they fed you Veritaserum," Snape said simply, his eyes roving over the men gathered here. "Where are the rest of the guards?" he demanded.  
  
I almost smiled at the familiar, caustic voice.  
  
"In the gallery, back there," Sirius jerked a thumb behind him. "You got most of them though, Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy obligingly started a fight, which got most of them down here." Snape's eyes snapped to meet mine, and I nodded slightly in greeting. Then his eyes drifted to Harry, next to me, who looked...  
  
I don't know how he looked. He looked almost scared, which was strange, because I don't think I've ever seen him scared, not even when we were children. It was disconcerting, and I could tell that it was disturbing everyone who looked at him.  
  
Finally Harry stirred. "You can lock the guards up in isolation," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "If you have the keys it would help."  
  
"We've got better than that," Snape told him, an odd note in his voice. From a pocket of his robes he withdrew a slender wand. Harry's eyes widened slightly, and he held his hand out, palm up.  
  
The wand flew easily to him. Snape frowned slightly. If he was trying to figure Harry out, I wondered if I should tell him not to bother.  
  
Harry looked up from his study of his wand, and glanced at me for a moment before turning to Gary, Claw, Rubber and Eddie.  
  
"Get everyone to go back to their cells," he said in a low tone. "Don't lock them in, just make sure they understand that they have to be in a cell - any cell, I don't care - until we can sort this all out."  
  
"Right," Claw said doubtfully. "What about Zabini, Birdie and that lot? They won't go willingly."  
  
"I'll punch him if it'll help," I offered, smirking. Eddie rolled his eyes at me, and I subsided. Okay, perhaps that hadn't been quite the right thing to say.  
  
"I'll sort them out," Harry said grimly. "This place will be swarming with resistance soon, they'll need to get it locked down, and until they do we *stay out of their way*, understand?"  
  
"Understood," Gary nodded quickly. "C'mon." He started going from inmate to inmate, quickly talking to them until they started moving off to their respective cells. Claw and Eddie started doing the same, and Rubber only spared me a considering glance - for some obscure reason - before he did the same.  
  
"Do you want me to help them?" I asked Harry quietly. He shook his head, a little desperation on his face.  
  
"No, I - I think I need..." He trailed off, unwilling to actually say it. I nodded quickly.  
  
"Okay," I agreed. "I'll stay." We turned back as one to meet Snape.  
  
"Potter," he nodded. I winced, and fully comprehended why Harry had wanted me here.  
  
None of these people had a clue in hell how to deal with Harry.  
  
"Snape," Harry greeted. "Everyone's getting out of your way, in one cell or another. The guards, as I said, can go into isolation - Draco can show your people where that is. If you need to know anything about the prison, one or other of us will be around but I'd advise against asking Zabini or Birdie, since they'll go out of their way to hinder you."  
  
Snape was staring at Harry with a strange kind of bewildered expression. Well, Harry had changed a lot. He could hardly have expected to waltz in here and find Harry the same person as he'd always been.  
  
"Draco, I'm going up to my cell," Harry told me, ignoring Snape for a moment. "Will you - "  
  
"Yes," I agreed. "Of course."  
  
Harry spared a last glance at Snape and Sirius before moving down to Godric Alley and disappearing towards his cell.  
  
I met Snape's eyes again.  
  
"Welcome to Talsgate, Professor Snape," I said evenly.  
  
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To be continued.  
  
Replies to reviews:  
  
Hippy Flower(Voldie's kid - sigh. Lovely three-layer chocolate cake. Damn. And I'd intended to keep my chocolate weakness a secret from you guys. As to your question...I can't answer that. I really can't. Which probably gives you a clue anyway.  
  
whitebearwrites - thank you!  
  
Piri Lupin-Snape - thank you! And about your fic: I'm going to go and read it and I don't give a damn if it's inspired by me or if you loosely borrowed anything. I mean, all fanfiction is borrowed from somewhere, right? If shorter means more updates, I'll try to go for both! I'm posting far quicker than I thought I would...  
  
Draco Malfoy N Harry Potter - Ooh, I'm nice! So now I'm even with yesterday, and I have a *feeling* that I may get another chapter out before the day is over. Actually, I'm fairly sure that I will.  
  
Celestialkatie - thank you! I don't leave that nasty cliffhangers, do I? Okay, maybe I do, but it's all for the best, really. And I do update very quickly...  
  
Squeegee - I'm not a machine, I swear! I'll repeat: I'm on summer holiday with nothing else whatsoever to do. Besides which, I'm more hooked on this fic than you lot are...and I know what's happening! And I have now said something about Severus - happy?  
  
gryffcat (too lazy to log in!) - thank you!  
  
bluevanilla - thank you! I am not evil, so say...many people! And I update very, very, very quickly...this chapter is up, what, three hours after the last one? See, I'm not evil! I'm not!!  
  
Blanche - you lost so many chapters because I seem to be slipping into a habit of updating three times a day, although that may climb up to four times a day today. And the shower scene...ah well, this is PG-13, not NC- 17, and I'm not willing to change the rating. I leave it to your imagination. 


	19. Talk

Author's Notes: Have I said before how much I enjoy reading your reviews? Also, I know I said I wouldn't be able to update as much today. Well, I guess I was wrong, because this is the fourth update, and there will be a fifth before it's too late at night here in England.  
  
Disclaimer: See part one.  
  
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"You do realise that Voldemort will have people out here as soon as you send that message?" Harry observed, as if he was only talking about the weather. "You don't have enough manpower to counteract any attack he might mount."  
  
I hid a grin. He'd been debating this one point with Snape and Black for at least half an hour, and as yet they hadn't figured out how to get around his arguments. And until they got around his arguments they couldn't send the owl to Voldemort informing him of the change of management here at Talsgate, because within a few hours of their arrival, the resistance had realised that Harry was well and truly in charge in this prison.  
  
I loved the fact that both the older wizards couldn't stop glaring at him as though they expected him to just roll over and obey orders like he always had at Hogwarts. Okay, maybe not always.  
  
I also loved that they hadn't figured out just where exactly I fit into this.  
  
Of course, I was treading a fine line with them. They knew what I'd been doing for the six years after Hogwarts and before Talsgate, and there was no way I was going to risk Harry finding that out.  
  
Not for a long while yet.  
  
"How do you know that he'd send such a huge attack force?" Snape retorted sharply. "You've been in here five years, Potter - things change."  
  
"I've been in here about four months," I reminded him coolly. "Things don't change a vast amount in four months."  
  
Snape glowered. I smirked, and turned my gaze to Black, who was frowning.  
  
"Harry," he started, "I don't want to sound too much like, well, your mother, but it almost sounds as if you don't want to fight Voldemort." What a novel suggestion. Let's all applaud the magnificent genius of Sirius Black, grand champion at stating the obvious.  
  
However, I didn't know why Harry didn't want to face Voldemort, just that he didn't want to. Perhaps, with his godfather answering the question, he'd actually tell me something...  
  
Harry was gazing out of one of the windows of the dining room, which is where we were. Claw and Gary were standing guard at the door to stop anyone getting in, and Rubber was attempting to cook something half-way edible in the kitchen with the help of half a dozen other men - which had included, to my surprise, Birdie, Zabini's crony.  
  
"Why would I want to fight Voldemort?" Harry asked rhetorically now, looking back at Black. "I can't beat him, so why on earth would I want to fight him?" Well, in my opinion no-one in their right minds would want to fight Voldemort, but then again, I wasn't so sure Harry *was* in his right mind.  
  
"Of course you can beat him!" Snape exploded. "You're the bloody Boy Who Lived!" But he's not a boy anymore, Snape, hadn't you noticed? I certainly had - although I suppose it's different for me.  
  
"I can't beat him," Harry snapped. "And I never will be able to, so drop it!" I frowned; he didn't normally get angry at mention of Voldemort, but I wondered...  
  
"Why?" Black demanded, pushing a point that no-one else, not even Snape, would have pushed. "Harry, you're easily as powerful as him, if not more so - you're far more powerful than Dumbledore was, and to top it all off you're the Heir of Gryffindor! How on earth could you think that you wouldn't be able to beat Voldemort?"  
  
Harry glanced swiftly at me.  
  
"I knew you're the Heir," I assured him quietly. "He - Voldemort, that is - he told me about it several years ago." He nodded, but I could see that he was curious about how I'd been close enough to Voldemort to be privy to *that* sort of information.  
  
Snape caught Harry's look, and a nasty sneer spread across his face. I suddenly got a sick feeling in my stomach as Snape looked deliberately from Harry to me.  
  
"Do you mean to say, Mister Malfoy," he began slowly, "that you haven't told Potter what you *were* before you got caught spying? Do you mean to say that he has no idea?"  
  
No, no, please God, no.  
  
"Draco?" Harry queried softly. I shook my head, staring at Snape, hoping - praying - that he wouldn't do this.  
  
"He has a right to know, Draco," Black chimed in, not looking the least bit unrepentant. "Will you tell him, or shall we?"  
  
I couldn't speak, terror was choking me, and Harry's green eyes held me frozen.  
  
"He was Voldemort's," Snape said finally. "Voldemort's...consort, I suppose is the right word. For six years he served Voldemort sexually."  
  
The ensuing silence was deafening. I could see, across the room in the kitchen, Rubber staring at me in absolute shock. I didn't dare look at Harry, but Snape was gazing at me maliciously.  
  
Finally I found my voice. "Do you think," I started, trying to keep my voice from shaking, "that by hurting me, you will somehow hurt my father?"  
  
Then I stood up, turned, and stiffly walked to the door. I ignored Gary and Claw, I ignored the resistance fighters, dressed in black, conversing in hushed tones with each other and the inmates. I ignored the people around me until I reached Harry's cell, and curled up on the bed.  
  
I could hardly believe that Snape had said that. Was his grudge against my father so great that he felt he had to hurt me as well? But he hadn't hurt my father, he had hurt me.and for all I knew he'd hurt Harry as well, for all I knew he'd driven Harry away from me, just like everyone is driven away from me by something or other, and after all, how would Harry ever want to be with anyone who'd been with Voldemort, that disgusting, slimy disgrace to the species.  
  
Someone was holding me, I realised. Someone was gently holding me and rubbing my back, like mother had done when I was small. Someone was wiping away the tears that I hadn't even realised were falling from my eyes.  
  
I looked up, and I realised that I'd already known who it was.  
  
"I'm sorry," I croaked. He shook his head.  
  
"Don't be."  
  
Two simple words that conveyed so much. I smiled, and he smiled back at me, a true smile, although tainted with sadness.  
  
"The reason I can't defeat Voldemort," he said slowly after a moment, "is because we are both heirs of the Founders. Our magic cancels each other out - we can't even physically hurt each other."  
  
"So how did he put those chains on you?" I wanted to know.  
  
"Because he wasn't putting the magic on me," he explained. "It was...separate. So he could, and I could take them off."  
  
I nodded slowly - that made sense, sort of.  
  
"I didn't have a choice but to...do what I did with Voldemort," I said suddenly. "My father...my father was not...pleasant, at home, and he...when he realised that I didn't have any particular desire to be branded, he suggested me for Voldemort. I was...a disappointment to him, so he didn't feel any guilt over it. And I...I can't care about him after what he did to Mother and I."  
  
He didn't ask what Father had done to us, and I was glad.  
  
"Hermione Granger," he said after a while, "became a collaborator because everything she cared for was being threatened. She didn't mean to give them Ron, but she made the mistake of sending him a letter - she didn't know that her letters were being tracked. I...I know all that, but I can't forgive her."  
  
Well, neither would I have if I'd been in his place, I think.  
  
"I...I was a spy for the resistance for nearly a year," I admitted. "Because I was so close to Voldemort I heard a lot of information, and he didn't suspect me. Then he found out because I...I forgot to get an alibi for where I was one evening when I was meeting one of my contacts." I shrugged. "I'd never...he'd never raped me before then, but he did when he'd found out, and he did it when we were both levitated ten feet in the air. I can't stand heights now - as you know."  
  
I shrugged again. "Maybe, if we get out of here, I'll start flying again and learn to love it again."  
  
"When," Harry corrected. "When we get out of here."  
  
I smiled at him, and he kissed me. Then he drew back a little.  
  
"They've sent the owl," he told me quietly. "They don't think the attack will come for a few days, but I'm expecting it tomorrow. The word's being spread among the 'mates, we'll be ready for it. If Voldemort comes..."  
  
"If he comes, you can't fight him," I breathed. "Harry...be careful."  
  
"You too," he murmured. "Draco, I..."  
  
Words unsaid passed between us, and suddenly they didn't need to be spoken aloud anymore.  
  
"I know," I said. "Me too."  
  
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To be continued.  
  
Replies to reviews:  
  
her life was magazines - wow, thank you! Ooh, angelic - see, everyone! (Points to halo on head) I'm not evil, I'm an angel!  
  
Hippy Flower(Voldie's kid - nope, nothing between them. Just general not liking each other. Mmm, chocolate milkshake...  
  
Kit - Remus is...unimportant to the plot as it stands. Sorry.  
  
Shades - Thanks!  
  
T.K. Yuy - well, I can't help writing, I'm addicted, and I'm not hearing you complaining! There's this one and another to come yet today, so keep reading and reviewing! I do have another story beginning to grow in my mind.different from anything I've written so far, but I think it would work. I just need to work out the details, then I'll start writing it as soon as 'Chained' is over.  
  
Michelle - thanks!  
  
Squeegee - I like it when people review lots! Of course I love this story as much - if not more - than you lot do! But don't forget that it's nearly over...  
  
Ice - is that good or bad?  
  
bluevanilla - thanks! And, um, I'll warn you now, the end is fairly.dramatic. Do try not to have a heart attack when it happens, alright? Yep, four updates to this one, five to the one that will hopefully be out later.  
  
Demeter - really? You do? Wow....thanks! Severus Snape, although fantastic I agree, is not in this fic. He's nasty. Sorry. And you have more now, and you'll have more in...approximately two and a half to three hours, but I'm afraid there's really not much more.  
  
Maddy - yeah, Draco really liked punching Zabini like that...so did I, if truth be told. 


	20. Over

Author's Notes: Slightly shorter chapter, I'm afraid.  
  
Disclaimer: See part one.  
  
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Tension. It was palpable in Talsgate the next morning. The inmates were all aware that Harry thought the attack would come today, so we were all quiet, speaking in muted voices and trying our best to ignore the resistance workers - who, to be fair, weren't going out of their ways to talk to us either. I suppose that they assumed we weren't to be trusted - after all, we were criminals of the first degree, the worst kind of scum.  
  
As if they were much better.  
  
The only loud noises in the prison were the angry yells of the guards we had shut up in isolation, and the clacking sounds of Snape's shoes as he paced up and down underneath the gallery. He was concerned about something, but we didn't know what. Maybe he secretly agreed with Harry in that he thought the attack would come today. He wouldn't talk of it.  
  
I watched him from the end of Helga Alley, where our group of friends were trying to play cards, trying to show that we weren't concerned about what was going to happen. It didn't much work, since Harry was more interested in falling asleep on me than playing cards, and it was all I could do to keep my hands off him.  
  
Finally Rubber decided he couldn't take it anymore.  
  
"I'm not going to help you all be miserable," he said with conviction. "Look at you all! Claw, Gary, this isn't the end of the world we're talking about! Eddie, you're usually the one we all tell off for telling jokes at the wrong times! Harry, did you get *any* sleep last night? And Draco, we're all well aware that you've been in love with Harry since way back when, but do you have to flaunt it?"  
  
After reading us that lecture, he promptly bent all his bones backwards. We couldn't help but laugh.  
  
But it didn't last, it couldn't last. There was a dark shadow hanging over us that forbade laughter, that discouraged happy thoughts or looks or words. And we were helpless but to obey it. It hung over the whole prison, a dark spectre, a dark shadow of death and the only laughter was that of the madman in whichever cell he was in. He was so mad that when everyone else had been unlocked and brought out of their cells, Harry had decreed that he should be left where he was.  
  
And the madman cared nothing for any attack that might be coming to us today.  
  
The attack did come. It came only a few minutes before midday, and we were ready for it, even if the resistance was not. But they were practiced enough at fighting without any warning, so the edge of surprise that Voldemort had intended did not work.  
  
None of us prisoners were much help, I saw that within moments of the Death Eaters Apparating into the prison - they had evidently taken down the wards. Others saw it to, and took to the relative safety of the uppermost cells, where the Death Eaters could scarcely reach them, and where they could watch the battle that waged on the ground floor.  
  
It was a battle, a hideous, ugly battle. I crouched on the bridge of Salazar Alley most of the time, although I sometimes ran around looking for anyone who had been hurt, hoping that I could do something, anything to help Harry.  
  
There was nothing I could do; the Death Eaters took no prisoners, and neither, it seemed, did the resistance. Harry sometimes seemed to be duelling with half a dozen wizards at a time; Snape seemed to be everywhere, and Black was just the same. The others of the resistance were fast, but not fast enough in many cases.  
  
Soon bodies littered the prison, and I crouched again on the bridge over Salazar Alley, watching Snape be killed by an unnamed Death Eater, watching Harry barely able to spare a glance to our former teacher.  
  
I don't believe in God, but please God, keep him safe.  
  
A moment later, I forgot about Harry. A voice, a very familiar cold, slightly nasal voice spoke my name from behind me.  
  
"Draco."  
  
That was all it took for me to know who it was. For eleven years I had heard that voice every day. For years afterwards it was still the most familiar voice to me in the world I straightened, and took a breath before turning around to face him.  
  
He stood there as though he hadn't a care in the world, as if a massacre wasn't taking place around us. So he had always been, I recalled with bitterness. Whatever was going on could not affect the great lord of the manor.  
  
"Hello, Father," I greeted, sounding more calm than I felt. I couldn't believe it. He was there. He was there, standing right in front of me, his wand clasped in his right hand. He lifted it, and I was terrified. I knew what he was about to do. I knew, and I could do nothing to stop it.  
  
"No, Draco!" I heard Harry scream from somewhere below me. I couldn't turn, I couldn't take my eyes off him. His gray eyes, identical to mine. His silvery-blonde hair, with a few streaks of white-gray now. His arrogant, arrogant posture.  
  
"Go to hell," I whispered.  
  
His eyes flashed. He opened his mouth to speak two words. I let my hands drop to hang by my side. It was over. I knew it, he knew it...Harry knew it, or he would.  
  
I'm sorry, Harry. I'm sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen, I never meant to love you, I never meant to let you get hurt, I never meant...  
  
"Avada Kedavra!" A flash of green light, then a distant wail, and then -  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The End.  
  
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Replies to reviews will follow in a longer author's note. 


	21. Author's Notes

Author's Notes, since you all are going to have fits if I don't explain a couple of things, only it may turn out to be more than a couple of things, so bear with me.  
  
Yes, I had been planning that ending since day one. It fitted in with the tone of the story, it was a dramatic ending, and it was powerful (if I'm wrong in this, tell me, but I won't change the ending!) There will not be a sequel, there will not be an alternate ending. This. Is. It.  
  
Any of you who are now hyperventilating, *breathe*.  
  
But I knew I couldn't just leave it as it was, because too many of you would have questions - how right I was! - so the purpose of this author's note is to explain what happened after 'After', and to thank everyone who has contributed to this fic.  
  
Draco: Yes, he is dead. That's why it ended so suddenly; it ended when he died, and it couldn't continue after that since it was all from his POV. I know some of you think that it shouldn't have ended there after everything that Draco had been through, but...it had to end there, really. I don't think any of you would have really liked it if, after such a dark fic, I had ended it on a happy note, and I certainly wouldn't have been satisfied.  
  
Hermione: I know I said Hermione would come back in, but she just didn't fit. She came in the first place mostly just to plant the vaguest suspicion in the minds of people who were paying attention to the minutiae, and also to have questions raised about what had happened to Harry in the past. It really wouldn't have worked to have her come back in.  
  
Narcissa Malfoy: do you really want to know this? Alright, she was tortured by first Lucius, and then Voldemort for going to visit her son, but she recovered, eventually, left Lucius and joined the resistance.  
  
Blaise Zabini: the reason why Zabini was in Talsgate has been, though unimportant, inquired after, so I'll explain. Zabini *was* a Voldemort supporter, he even had the Dark Mark, but he crossed the line when he killed one of Voldemort's major supporters in a muggle raid. It wasn't on purpose, but it was his fault, so he was put in Talsgate and he was bitter about it. He was killed during the battle in Talsgate.  
  
Harry: Harry survived and left Talsgate, but didn't stay to help the resistance; he moved to a remote island in Scotland and stayed there until Voldemort had been defeated.  
  
Claw, Gary, Eddie and Rubber: They all survived, and left Talsgate with Harry, and lived with him up on his island in Scotland since, well, he wasn't exactly in a fit state to look after himself, and they found when they tried to go in their separate directions that it wasn't really going to work just yet, since they'd been together for so long.  
  
Lucius Malfoy: Harry killed him just a moment too late to save Draco. I'm not sure whether it was a painful death, but hey, we can all hope, right?!  
  
The resistance fighters, helped by Harry, defeated the Death Eaters at Talsgate...but the prison didn't really last long after that, Harry being absolutely distraught and furious. After everyone was out, he ripped apart the prison bit by bit, and sent the locks to Voldemort, along with Lucius's body.  
  
Voldemort was defeated some years later by the new leader of the resistance, a certain Fred Weasley, who died at the same time.  
  
That's about it. If anyone has any other questions, email me and I'll answer them there, if I can.  
  
Thank you to: my family, for putting up with my hyper exhilaration when I found that I not one, but fifteen reviews after the first chapter. My friends, for both Rubber and more putting-up with me. Whoever Alcatraz belongs to in America, since it was there that I had the first gleams of an idea for Talsgate prison.  
  
Each and every reviewer; there are too many of you for me to thank you all individually, but I'd particularly like to thank: T.K. Yuy, Piri Lupin- Snape, Demeter, EnigmaDesdemona7, and Derelictus - my regular reviewers, whom I am quite certain I annoyed the hell out of by my continuous repetitions of 'you'll find out...eventually.' Thank you everyone. This fic could not have happened without you.  
  
Special thanks to that Goddess, that marvellous creature, JK Rowling. She'll never read this, but thank you for creating such a wonderful world for us to play in.  
  
On another note (shameless plugging for my next story) I *am* starting to write another story, and the first chapter may or may not be up today, tomorrow by the latest. It's unlike anything I've ever written, which seems to be my trend at the moment, and I'd love you all to go and read it once it's out!  
  
Sparks.  
  
P.S. I have it on good authority - i.e., my mother - that I am evil incarnate. Therefore, I can't say that I'm not. You lot win *that* battle. 


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